


Converse and Concealer

by ShootingFromAfar



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Child Abuse, Deceit is a terrible father, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Helpful Roman, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I'll fix it I promise, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Logan and Patton are adorable dads, M/M, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, Verbal Abuse, Virgil has PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-08-02 14:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16307033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootingFromAfar/pseuds/ShootingFromAfar
Summary: Roman sighed. He'd seen Virgil come to school with an unexplainable amount of bruises since the 3rd grade, and it only seemed to be getting worse. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t worry about his friend.Virgil needed help, whether he’d admit it or not. And as much as Roman didn’t want to betray his friend’s trust... there was no way he wouldn’t tell Dad about tonight. The shape Virgil had shown up in, just proved how much they needed to get the 9-year-old away from his father ASAP.AKA: Virgil is a kid living with an abusive Deceit, and though Roman may only be 10, he is determined to get his best friend out… with the help of his dads Patton and Logan.





	1. That First Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing against Deceit as a character and knowing Thomas, I'm sure they'll find a way to make him a regular and lovable side, but for this fic I needed a bad guy and that role fell to him. So he's horrible. Sawwwwyyyy!!
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> The Sander Sides characters are under copyright or license by the author, Thomas Sanders and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.

It had to be after two. The only source of light was from the streetlamps, every 20 feet and a small hand-cranked flashlight. It bounced as the small figure in a black and purple hoodie, trudged along. There was no one up at this time of the night, and for that Virgil was grateful. He had his hood up, but the limp and his black eye were hard to cover. Every step hurt, and the cold air that was being dragged into his small lungs, made his chest ache. His heavy breaths came in puffs of white cloud, beat up purple Converse splashing through the puddles caused by the misty rain. He knew the route by heart, thankfully. He wouldn’t have been able to navigate his way with this pounding headache. Besides, his mind was far away from the surrounding houses.

. . . .

_The door crashed open with a bang, startling Virgil awake. He was alert immediately, heart pounding against his ribs. Panicked, he shoved as much math homework, as he could into his backpack and kicked it into the practically empty closet._

_“VIRGIL!!” the shout was deep and angry and just hearing it made Virgil flinch. “GET DOWN HERE NOW!!”_

_Virgil didn’t even think about hesitating. He flew down the stairs, expertly dodging dirty dishes, bits of food, and empty beer bottles . Father had parties almost every weekend and_ _Virgil was always the one tasked to clean it._

_Normally it was something he could do. The next-door neighbor had a carpet cleaner she let him borrow, and Father usually gave him a few days to finish it before he got impatient and demanded Virgil  stayed home from school. It was a Monday though, and Virgil already got the kitchen under control, so what in the world could he be mad at?_

_“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS???” Father screamed, spit flying from his beat red face. Virgil closed his eyes briefly, shoulders slumping. Deceit was drunk._

_This was going to be painful._

_"I FEED YOU, CLOTHE YOU, AND RAISE YOU! AND WHEN I ASK ONE THING IN RETURN, THIS IS WHAT I GET?!?!”_

_Virgil knew better than to respond. It was smarter to let the man get his anger out before the punches started, so he looked submissively down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Father.”_

_Virgil hissed as the side of his face exploded in pain, “HELL YEAH YOU’RE GONNA BE!!”_

. . . .

With a start, Virgil realized he’d reached his destination.

He studied the house before him. In the sunlight it was tan with dark brown trim. The driveway was curved, connecting with the garage on the side of the house. There was limestone facing about halfway up the bottom windows which were framed with shutters. It was a homely house, one Virgil considered safe.

Roman’s room was on the second floor. The window was set into the roof, giving it that “Rapunzel's tower” vibe that the exuberant 10 year old loved so much. The ledge was pretty flat, though it looked kinda narrow from Virgil’s spot on the ground.

_Now if I could only get up there…_

Virgil’s gaze caught on a tree close to the house. It looked a little young, but it might be just the thing to get him into Roman’s room.

The first branch was just barely out of reach so he backed up a few paces and ran at it. The fingers of his right hand closed around it, but slipped off. He hit the ground with a thud, getting up quickly, pants soaked by the cold water.

Sighing, he backed up again …SUCCESS!! Now a new problem arouse. His lungs felt like he’d been punched. He cried out in pain. It took everything he had to hang on to the branch. Eventually, the pain faded to a manageable level and he began to swing, gathering momentum to hook his legs on a parallel branch.

After that, the climb was second nature.

The slick rain and Virgil's bad ankle made it a bit perilous, but he made it to the roof in good time. Now he sat, perched in the tree, about 4 feet from the ledge. It felt like 50 as he wrapped his arms and legs over, hanging like a sloth while he slowly shimmied over the gap, praying that the branch wouldn't break.

As soon as he was safely suspended over the roof tiles, he swung one leg down and pried his hands from the cold wood. For a moment he just lay there, soaking up the feeling of solid wood beneath him, and catching his breath. When his heart-rate had slowed to a normal rate, he rose on his hands and knees, and carefully made his way to the window.

He’d taken the screen off his own window countless times before and wasted no time doing the same to Roman’s.

Virgil pressed his face to the cold glass and peered inside of his friend’s room. The nightlight in the corner wasn’t bright enough to show much, but Roman was usually a light sleeper so he knocked quietly on the glass.

Nothing.

He knocked again, a bit louder this time.

Virgil started to doubt his decision to walk over when a light came on and a sleepy face appeared in his field of vision. He couldn’t help but smirk when Roman spotted him, expression going from tired, confused, surprised, and shocked within the span of a few seconds.  The window was quickly opened and Virgil clambered inside.

“HOW DID YOU GET ONTO THE ROOF?!?” Roman stage whispered, staring in shock at his friend.

Virgil shrugged, smirk hidden in the shadows cast by his jacket hood.

“Okay, that can wait. Why _are_ you here? Did something happen? You’re all wet... here.” Roman lead him into the bathroom, disappeared, and came back with a change of clothes. “Put these on, then we’ll talk.”

Virgil blinked as the door to the bathroom closed. Roman took that... surprisingly well.

Honestly, Virgil was a little surprised to find himself at Roman’s. Normally he avoided his friend like the _plague_ when Father had roughed him up, but Virgil was tired. He’d been hiding the bruises for far too long, and though he wasn't delusional, knowing that there was no way out, he wanted just one night of rest.

No Father to keep one eye open for, no yelling, no punching... so Virgil had gone to the one place where he felt “safe”. Roman’s house.

A violent shiver shook his frame, shaking him quite literally out of his thoughts, and he quickly stripped out of everything but his boxers, crossing to the mirror to take a look at the damage.

His mouth turned down when he caught sight of himself. There was a handprint-shaped bruise across his jaw from where his dad had slapped him and his eye was already swelling up.

His arms were covered in various marks from blocking a punch and being held in place, but that was nothing new. However, the watercolor of red, purple, and blue across his ribs and stomach were. Normally he was fast enough to prevent his torso from getting too much damage, but he was _tired_ and his overworked muscles made him slow.

After poking and prodding at his ribs to ensure that nothing was too badly hurt, Virgil turned his attention to his throbbing ankle. He carefully rotated it a few times and let out a sigh of relief. It didn’t seem sprained, just rolled from his jump out of his bedroom window during his escape.  

Shivering to himself, he carefully eased into the change of clothes Roman gave him. They were a bit big, but soft, warm, and smelled like safety.

Virgil smiled, snuggling into them as he opened the bathroom door.

Roman glanced up from where he’d been rummaging in a drawer. He threw a pair of socks at The opening door, “Here, they’re fuzzy.”

“Thanks.” Virgil caught them and perched on the edge of Roman's bed to pull them on, cautious of his ribs and ankle. He glanced up at the small gasp Roman made when he came close.

“Virgil! Your eye!! What happened? Do you want me to get some ice?”

Virgil shrunk away from the fingers hovering around his face and put a finger to his lips. Roman fell silent, staring with concern at his friend.

Virgil spoke in a stage whisper, “Yes to the ice. Make sure to grab one of those little towels too. Can you do that without waking anyone up?”

Roman nodded, “Should I tell Dad? He always knows what do do when I get hurt.”

Virgil bit his lip, “No, not this time.” He didn’t want to bring too many people into this. It was already a _huge_ risk coming to Roman. Getting an adult would be the death of him.

Roman paused, reluctant, but eventually nodded and crept to his door, easing it open without a sound. Then he was gone.

Virgil let out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding. _One thing at a time_.

First he'd patch himself up, then he'd see if he could get Roman to teach him how to cover it up. The exuberant boy was surprisingly good at makeup from all the acting classes and productions he'd been in. And besides, Mrs. Evans was starting to get suspicious.

Then the hardest part. Convincing Roman not to tell. The boy had a heart of gold, but his whole prince persona would probably lead him to ‘vanquish the enemy' himself and Roman was no match for Virgil’s father.

A hand on Virgil’s shoulder startled him and he instinctively flinched, backing into the pillows on Roman’s bed.

“Sorry!” Roman held the first aid kit out in a placating gesture, “I got the whole thing, and a bag of ice. We have towels in the bathroom.”

Virgil focused on slowing his breaths as he accepted the objects, “I'll be right back”

“Wait!” Roman looked torn, “Do you want help? Dad taught me first aid.”

Virgil smiled at his kind-hearted friend, “You've helped plenty already”. Then he was closing the bathroom door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!! These chapters are going to be kinda smallish so that I can keep up with both school and writing. I'm planning to update on a regular schedule and post a new chapter every Monday!! I had a ton of fun with the window scene and I hope you enjoyed it too! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Let me know if you've got any constructive criticism in the comments (aww snap, alliterations!!) and get ready for more chapters to come!! : )


	2. Painting a Picture of Normalcy

Roman sighed as he heard the click of the lock. He'd seen Virgil come to school with bruises since the 2nd grade, and it seemed to be getting worse.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t worry about his friend.

Virgil’s mom had died over the summer, and he’d stayed with Roman’s family for the weeks leading up to the funeral. He'd looked so _sad,_ and Roman knew that his dads had worried about the younger boy; but Virgil always waved off their concern with a shrug and a small smile.

He just wished Virgil would let him help more.

Patton’s voice echoed in Roman’s ears. _Baby steps. First get him to accept help, then you can slowly work up to the big stuff. And don’t forget, when things get too hard, we'll always be here too._

Virgil had come over when he needed it, now Roman had to be patient and wait for the next move.

The bathroom door opened, spilling light onto the floor of Roman’s bedroom. Virgil gave him his trademark, small smile. “I'm all good now.”

Roman grinned brightly in return, hiding how much his heart ached for the boy in front of him. “Need any more ice? I can get another bag before we go to sleep.”

Virgil shook his head, but didn't move from his spot in the doorway.

Roman lifted an eyebrow at his shifting friend. Virgil always got fidgety when he wanted to ask for something, and Roman, though tired, recognized the look on his best friend's face. “Did you need something else?”

“Yeah… uh… do you, I mean you don't have to if you don't want to... But um, I need to cover up…” Virgil gestured to his face.

Roman smiled for real this time, failing to hide the excitement in his tone. “You want me to do your makeup?”

Virgil’s shifted, “If-if you don't mind… but, it's fine if you can’t! I don't wanna be a bother. I don't even know why I asked honestly. You probably need sleep and I'm probably being really annoying and-”

Roman cut him off, smiling wide, “I'd love to!”

Virgil blinked. “Oh, okay.”

5 minutes later, Roman had _finally_ found a concealer and powder to match his friend’s complexion.

Virgil was _seriously_ pale.

Luckily, his collection was reasonably sized, so he'd been able to locate a matching shade.

“Okay so this...” he pointed to a small, frosted cylinder “is concealer. It does exactly what it's named after. Conceal. That'll be the main thing we use to cover up the bruises. “This” He pointed to a bigger, square bottle, “ is foundation. It's what we'll use on the rest of your face so that there's not an obvious color change. And this.” He pointed to a flat, square case, “Is setting powder. It helps the makeup stay on longer and makes your face look more natural. You're gonna wanna keep these on you during the day, since you'll probably need to re-apply.”

Virgil studied the objects in his hands, “It's not gonna be super obvious is it?”

Roman grinned, “You're talking to a pro here! Not a soul will know!!”

Virgil smirked, then glanced back at the bottles, “How do you know so much about covering a bruise?”

The genuine curiosity in his friend's tone caught Roman off guard.

In all honestly, he'd been researching since he first started noticing how Virgil seemed to be in pain when he moved, and the odd marks from houghhousing began to multiply. He had hoped that the smaller boy would eventually accept help, so he read everything he could get his hands on with his Papa, Logan.

Makeup was one of the first things they covered, since it was kind of Roman’s specialty. But there was no way he could tell Virgil that.

“Uhhh…" Roman wracked his brain, "Well there was this one kid during Schoolhouse Rock who came in on opening night with this _giant_ bruise on his jaw cause he smacked his face into a desk, and as the residential makeup expert and actor extraordinaire; I was, of course, the only one with the skills to cover it.”

Virgil looked a bit skeptic so Roman decided to keep talking. “Of course, Jeremy was a _squirmy_ little squirt and it took me FOREVER to finish since he _literally wouldn't sit still!!_ ”

Virgil huffed a laugh at his friend’s antics, “You won't have that problem with me. I've had a lot worse than a 10 year old attacking my face with a makeup blender.”

I took great amounts of effort for Roman to keep the hurt off his face. Virgil's words made his chest physically _ache_ , but he knew that the fastest way to cause the 9 year old retreat back inside himself, was to pity him. So he hid his aching heart and launched into the theatrics he was known for.

After all, he was an actor.

“I'm wounded!” He cried, clutching his chest, “ _Wounded_ , over the fact that you would consider my makeup expertise, an _attack_! I will have you know that I possess softest and most _delicate_ hands in the business when it comes to these things!!”

“SHHHHHHHHH!!” Virgil clapped a hand over Roman’s mouth, stopping his tirade, “You're gonna wake up your parents!!”

Despite the quick reaction, Virgil was laughing. There was a light flashing in his eyes, that the younger boy hadn't had before Roman's interception, and he couldn't keep a soft smile from growing on his own face as he pulled Virgil's hand away from his mouth.

“Okay, okay.” His voice was back to a whisper, “I'm gonna do this handprint here and let you do that eye so that you can learn too.”

Virgil nodded, serious again, but noticeably more relaxed.

“So starting with the concealer,” he twisted the top off of the cylinder to reveal something that looked like a skin colored cotton swab, “This is the applicator, it picks up the makeup inside the tube. All I have to do is smear on enough to cover the bruise.” he paused, still a foot away from his friend, “Is it okay if I touch your face?”

Virgil gave the bottle a skeptic look, but nodded hesitantly.

“So I’m just gonna dot this on both bruises since I know about how much we’ll need, be warned, it’s gonna be cold.”

Virgil flinched back when the thing touched his face, Roman wasn’t kidding, the stuff was _freezing_.

“Sorry!” Roman backed up quickly, looking a little panicked.

“Nah, it’s fine, just wasn’t expecting it, go ahead.” Virgil gestured to his face.

Roman smiled nervously at Virgil and moved in again. Once he’d deemed the amount of concealer sufficient, he grabbed an unused makeup sponge and began carefully smearing and dabbing the concealer into an even coverage, highly focused on making sure he wasn’t pressing too hard and laying a solid foundation for them to work on.

Virgil blinked in surprise. His friend wasn’t kidding when he said he had gentle hands. The kid’s fingers were all over Virgil’s face, but he wasn’t in any pain.

Roman’s concentration had caused the tip of his tongue to poke out in the corner of mouth, and he was so close that Virgil could see every freckle on the 10-year-old’s face.

He hoped his blush wasn't too noticeable.

“Kay,” Roman’s voice made Virgil jump, and if his blush was noticeable before, he probably looked like he had a fever now. But Roman didn't seem to notice. “I’m gonna put a bit of foundation on the back of my hand to make it easier to get to.”

Virgil frowned slightly as he focused on pouring a small amount of the slow moving liquid, out of the bottle and onto his hand, “Kinda like a paint pallet.”

Roman beamed at his artsy friend, “ _Exactly_ like a paint pallet! Now I’m using the makeup sponge to spread it cause it’s gonna look less smeary and more like your real skin this way.”

Virgil gave the triangle an experimental squish, “So it’s like using a foam brush versus a paintbrush.”

“Uh… I’m not really sure what a foam brush is, but sure. You’re gonna want to pat the foundation over the concealer so that it blends in with your skin.”

Virgil nodded, following Roman’s movements as the 10 year old dipped his sponge into the cream and dabbed lightly on and around his black eye.

“Make sure to do a dabbing motion. If you smear then you can accidentally wipe off the layer under.” Roman added.

Virgil smiled, “Like painting over wet paint.”

“Yup!” Roman let his mind go on autopilot as he went through the motions of teaching Virgil how to cover the bruises on his face, noting how tired the younger boy looked. Then again, Roman probably wouldn't sleep well if he was fearing for his safety either.

 

. . . .

 

“Hey Roman?”

Virgil’s voice dragged the 10-year-old back from where he’d been dangling on the very edge of unconsciousness. He grunted in response.

“Can you… not tell anyone about this?” Virgil’s quiet, scared voice was enough to make Roman turn fully around to face the younger boy. He’d thought that by coming over, Virgil was finally asking for help, but now he wanted Roman to keep quiet?

“Yeah, of course.” The response was out of his mouth before he could even think of taking it back.

Virgil gave him a tiny smile, and burrowed into the blankets, falling asleep almost instantly.

Roman turned back around, a small frown on his face as his thoughts spun.

Virgil needed help, whether he’d admit it or not. And as much as he didn’t want to betray his friend’s trust... there was no way he would keep quiet about tonight. The current situation just proved how much they needed to get the 9 year old away from his father ASAP.

Even if it meant the possible end of their friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo!! This chapter was a trip to write! So much Roman Angst and such a negative ending!! But seriously, Virgil is a smol bean who needs to be protected at all costs. 
> 
> Next chapter will have a bit more action and is going to officially kick off the whole Get-Virgil-Out-of-Deceit's-House-NOW!! rush so stay tuned for next Monday!!


	3. Innocence

A loud, blaring sound startled Virgil awake.

He sat up, heart pounding, as he tried to locate the source of that insufferable noise. Glancing around the room, he realized 3 things at once:

  1. This wasn’t his room.
  2. He was in Roman's bed.
  3. The sound was Roman's alarm clock.



Virgil’s lips turned up in a small smile at Roman's exhausted groan. The energetic 10 year old was NOT a morning person. Then he remembered why he wasn’t in his own room at home, and his mood plummeted.

He needed to get back. _Now._

Lifting Roman’s arm, he scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom. His clothes were still on the floor where he left them. _Perfect_. He threw them on, adrenaline masking his protesting body, and he turned to the mirror, checking to see if the makeup was still mostly intact. It was, so he grabbed the bottles Roman had set out for him to keep, shoved them into his hoodie pouch, and returned to the window. He wasted a couple seconds reattaching the screen before crawling to the tree.

Virgil eyed the distance to the ground and sighed.

On a normal day, he could make that jump, but his ribs were busted and his ankle was still stiff from the little leap-of-faith act he’d performed the night before.

I mean _seriously_ , what was he thinking? His window was a good 10 feet from the ground.

Besides, the Sander's lawn was wet with morning dew and that would make for a slippery, one way ticket to a bruised tailbone.

Climbing it was.

. . . .

“Roman? You’re gonna be late if you don’t get up now!” Patton called up the stairs. 

He frowned at the lack of response, and climbed the staircase, only to stand in the doorway, smiling affectionately at his sleepy kiddo.

Roman sat up blearily, groaning at the light streaming through his curtain-less window.

Suddenly, his eyes widened and he gasped, vaulting himself out of bed and sprinting into the bathroom. The makeup kit he’d left out was gone, and the pj’s he’d lent his friend were balled up on the floor. Patton rushed in, close behind, a worried frown on his face as Roman burst into tears.

“Whoah, hey!” Patton wrapped Roman in a hug, maneuvering them down to sit on the bathroom floor and rubbed circles into his son’s back. “What’s wrong Little Prince?”

“V-virgil came over last n-night and he had a black eye, and handprints on his face! I-I tried to help him, but all I could do was show him how to cover it with makeup a-and now he’s _gone_! He told me not to tell you but he looked so _alone_ and _scared_. I-I don’t know what to do!!” Roman tucked into his Papa’s shirt and sobbed harder.

Patton instinctively pulled him closer, but his mind was racing. “Came over? What do you mean? How did he get in?”

“Th-the window.”

Yeah, Patton was extremely lost. How did that scrawny kid make it onto the roof? Maybe Roman had a nightmare... “Are you sure you were awake, Ro?"

Roman nodded, hiccuping and pointing at the makeup products spread across the counters and the clothes balled on the floor.

A glance at the clothing was all Patton needed.

Those were Roman’s old pj’s. They were _way_ too small and the only reason he kept them was because they were Virgil’s favorites.

Patton’s worry spiked, and he pulled the distraught 10 year old away from his polo. “Did he have any other injuries, Roman?”

Roman’s crying began to slow as he considered the question. “H-he wouldn’t let me in the bathroom o-once he had the first aid kit and some ice, but he was breathing kinda funny... Oh, and his sleeve slipped w-while I was teaching him makeup, and there was this reddish handprint that matched the one on his face. And then, when we went to bed, he was walking like he twisted his ankle or something.”

Patton blinked, Roman's earlier words just now re-kindling in his mind. “You taught Virgil how to cover his bruises?”

“Mmm Hmm,” Roman looked a little proud, “He asked me to teach him and I think he actually took the bottles I gave him... which is kinda weird cause he never asks for things, but I was really happy when he did! Also his eyes looked all sad and dull when he came in, but I got him to laugh too!”

Patton smiled, hiding his uneasiness. If Virgil had the supplies to cover up the damage, then their proof was going to get a little harder to see. He shook himself back into the task at hand. He still had to get Roman on the bus. “Okay kiddo, you need to get ready for school. Leave this to me and Papa for now.”

Roman looked at Patton with wide, teary eyes, “We're not gonna help Virgil?”

"I didn't say that. We _will_ help Virgil, but it's gonna take some time. For now, I need you to be there for Virgil. You did the right thing, telling an adult, but since he asked you not to, can you pretend like you didn’t for a little bit? We don’t want him getting scared.”

Roman nodded, feeling the resolve gathering inside his chest. He was going to help his friend.

Patton smiled softly at his precious son, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go get ready for the day.

_This kid is so freaking cute._

Patton wanted to wrap the 10 year old in a blanket and protect him forever; but he knew what he had to do, and in order to help Virgil, Roman was going to have to lose some of that innocence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I can already hear the complaints that this chapter is a little short. I know, I know.  
> But seriously, I have an addiction to cliffhangers and the next chapter is gonna make up for it so it'll be worth the wait, I promise! :)
> 
> ANYWAY, can we talk about Roman?? Because seriously that boy is gonna be the death of me. Smol theater bean has SO MANY FEELINGS!! I can't. Also, ominous Patton time!! *cackling evilly*
> 
> Welp, Thanks for reading!! I hope you have a wonderful week and get ready for stuff to hit the fan next Monday!! :)


	4. Taking Initiative

Getting home was rough. Somehow, bruises always hurt _more_ on the second day, than when he got them in the first place, and even though Roman’s bed was _worlds_ more comfortable than Virgil’s, he hadn’t been sleeping well for quite some time now.

He just couldn’t get himself to relax enough to get a good night's sleep. It felt like his body was on fight or flight mode 24/7, and it was making him jittery and anxious.

_It's probably because of Father._

But back to the task at hand. The shamble of a house stood in front of him. Pale yellow paint flaking off the dented siding, mailbox rusted beyond recognition, numbers falling off and crooked... it was a wonder homeland hadn’t taken it away yet. Virgil was pretty sure they were close to getting kicked out. All Father’s money went to alcohol.

Though Virgil honestly couldn’t blame him, he’d prefer not to remember either.

Virgil’s open window taunted him and he stared up at it with longing. _How in the world am I suppose to get back inside?_

It wasn’t like he could just waltz in through the front door, and he couldn’t go to school without his backpack. _Why did I leave it in my room? So stupid..._

Virgil patrolled the perimeter of the house; jiggling the windows with the desperate hope of one being unlocked. No such luck.

However, there was a certain spot, that if he positioned himself just right, that Virgil could peak through. A section of the plastic pieces still were still bent at an natural angle from when Father had torn them down in a rage, so Virgil took the opportunity to use it, searching for any possible entrance.

 _Perfect._ Father had crashed on the couch furthest away from the door.

A tentative plan started to take form in Virgil’s mind.

If he used the spare key to unlock the front door, he could draw Father past the stairs, hide behind the empty flower pot, and then at the right moment, sprint up the stairs and into his room. All he’d have to do is jump out the window again, not break his ankle, and he’d be on his way!

Virgil sent a silent prayer that Father was too hungover to catch him on his way up the stairs.  

. . . .

Deceit awoke to the creak of the front door. His head was pounding, his hands hurt, and his throat felt like he'd gargled glass.

_What the hell happened?_

He vaguely remembered a feeling of overwhelming anger and satisfaction as he pulled something… probably his deadbeat kid.

Another creak reminded his hungover self of the task at hand. That fucking kid was trying to sneak in.

Groaning, he began the process of getting off the couch and wading through the empty bottles around him. Man he needed a shower. But that little shit came first. Had to make sure the brat hadn’t snitched on him.

“HEY, BRAT!! WHAT THE _FUCK_ DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING??”

The door slammed closed as Deceit rounded the corner. Virgil was nowhere to be seen.

“DID YOU FUCKING RUN!?! WEAK LITTLE SHIT!!” He sped up, hoping to make it to the door in time to catch the sneaky little brat in the act.

A blur of movement flew up the stairs behind him, and Deceit had to slam a hand against the wall to keep him from pitching over.

_What the fuck... when did that brat get so fast?_

Belatedly, he reached out to intercept, but caught nothing but a handful of air. _Blast this hangover._

Deceit turned, swiftly making his way toward Virgil’s room, one wobbly step at a time.

“WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU!?!”

His question was met with a silence that only served to make him angrier.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DISRESPECT ME BY NOT ANSWERING!! WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU??”

Finally up the stairs, Deceit wrenched Virgil’s door open, only to be met with an open window and an empty room.

After a moment of pure, rageful shock, he screamed, slamming his foot into the mattress at his feet, and threw a left hook at the wall. His fist went through with no resistance and he staggered, yelling with more than just anger by now.

_That fucking kid's gonna get it when he comes home._

. . . .

Logan’s phone gave a pleasant ding, from where it sat on top of a pile of graded science tests, and he glanced at it with a small frown.

He was seated at his desk, double checking his equipment to make sure it was in working condition for the experiments his students would be doing in class later that day.

Normally, he would have ignored the text and set the phone on silent, but as soon as he saw who the message was from, his brow furrowed. Patton _never_ texted him in the morning unless something was wrong.

 

**Patton**

_Hey Lo. Roman was really upset this morning. Apparently Virgil showed up last night with bruises on his face and Roman taught him to cover them. I’ve noticed that he looks like he’s in pain sometimes, and I’m starting to get worried. It’s probably nothing, but would you mind asking Mrs. Evans about Virgil anyway?_

 

Logan’s frown deepened as he read. _Virgil came over last night? How did he get in?_ Actually, now that he thought about it, Logan had noticed Virgil's tense posture and quiet wincing. _But what exactly did Patton want him to ask?_

He decided to ask his most pressing question first.

 

**Logan**

What do you mean by ‘he showed up’? How did he get in?

 

**Patton**

_Roman said he climbed in through the window?_

 

**Logan**

ON THE SECOND FLOOR!?!?

 

Logan was definitely concerned now. How in the world did that kid climb onto the _roof_ of all places? Roman’s window was a good 15 feet off the ground, and it was _raining_ last night.

 

**Patton**

_Apparently so._

 

**Logan**

Did Roman say how hurt he was?

 

**Patton**

_Yeah… He said Virgil was breathing weird, there were handprints on his arms and face. Apparently he was walking like he'd twisted an ankle too, but once Ro gave him the first aid kit, Virgil locked himself in the bathroom, so there's probably  more that we don’t know about._

 

Logan took a deep breath. _This is bad._

 

**Logan**

I’ll ask right away

 

**Patton**

_Thank you!! I love you Lo <3 _

 

**Logan**

Love you too Pat.

 

. . . .

Natalie Evans looked up when Logan knocked softly on the door jam. She brightened as she spotted her colleague and the father of one of her favorite students.

“Mr. Sanders!! Come in!! What shenanigans has Roman gotten himself into this time?”

Logan smiled softly, “I’m actually not here for my son. I wanted to talk to you about Virgil.”

Natalie bit her lip, and sat back, motioning for Logan to sit as well. “Virgil is… quiet. It’s hard getting him to participate in class and though he talks to Roman, he doesn’t seem to be very interested in making friends with the other kids.”

“Has he ever come into school with noticeable bruises?”

She gave him a surprised look, “Quite often, actually. So much so, that I’ve asked him about it once or twice, but he’s had a pretty convincing explanation or excuse. Eventually I started keeping a log of how often it happened. Wish I could do more.”

“May I see it?”

“Of course!!” Natalie reached into a drawer and came out with a small, purple notebook, handing it to the male teacher.

Logan took the booklet, adjusted his glasses, and scanned through weeks of observation, “Patton texted me this morning about Virgil. Apparently the kid came over last night while we were asleep. Roman helped him cover up the bruises on his face.”

Natalie frowned softly, “That’s going to make it harder for me to record. I’ll have to keep a closer eye on him…” A thought occurred to her. “I actually sent a report into child services last week. They said they’d send someone to question him at school and check out the house, but I can’t do much more without solid proof.”

Logan visibly brightened, “Do you know when? I’d like to talk to them myself.”

Natalie flashed him a smile, turning to her laptop, "Yeah let me get that pulled up for you…”

. . . .

Logan stepped into Principal Wiler’s office and shut the door behind him. The room was familiar and he found himself relaxing slightly.

John Wiler was wonderful at his job and widely respected. Ascension Private Academy was nothing before he rose to power. Now it stood proudly with it’s head high; offering scholarships to those unable to pay for themselves and working to make their community better.  

Mr. Wiler sat forward, placing clasped hands on the desk in front of him and nodded to a chair. “Mr. Sanders, sit down! What can I do for you?”

Logan tipped his head in a greeting, "John, I wish I could visit under better circumstances, but I need your help.”

Mr. Wiler moved to a more comfortable position against the back of his office chair with a concerned frown, “What kind of circumstances?”

Logan sighed, pulling his tie out a few inches and rubbed a hand over his face, “How do I open a child abuse case?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYO!! It's author rant time!! 
> 
> First of all I wanted to say thank you to everyone who commented, bookmarked, or left me kudos on this. It makes me really happy to see that people have read and liked my writing so far!!
> 
> Second of all, let me just say sorry for being a day late, chapter 4 seriously stumped me. At the beginning of the week, I had a vague idea of what I wanted and an outline, but getting the entire chapter out and at what I felt was my best work was a little stressful. I'm really glad it came together in the end, but dang was this a mess of a week.
> 
> So anyway, thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you have a wonderful day!!


	5. Breathe

Roman scanned the classroom for Virgil’s familiar patchwork sweater. Normally he could be found in the back corner, beat up headphones over his ears, and nose stuck in a book. But the back corner was empty and the purple and black hoodie was nowhere to be seen. A spike of anxiety went through him as he pulled out his phone.

 

**Roman**

Virgil’s not at school.

 

**Patton**

Keep an eye out for him and text me when he does come in.

 

**Roman**

Kay

 

Roman looked up from his phone as Joan came barreling into the room at full speed, rambling on about who knows what. He felt his smile reflexively snap into place as he listened. Roman hated using his acting skills to hide his emotions, but this was Virgil’s battle and as a Prince, Roman honored his friend's wishes.

. . . .

Virgil limped into class several minutes after the bell. The students were doing their morning assessments so only a few noticed the entrance of the small boy. Roman’s seat was right by the door, so he caught the motion in his peripheral, shivering at the uncanny entrance. He hadn't heard a thing. _His friend could be scarily quiet when he wanted._

 

**Roman**

He’s here. He’s limping, but doesn’t seem to be any more hurt than last night.

 

**Patton**

Thank you, son. You’re doing the right thing.

 

Roman smiled, pocketing the phone and watching the exchange in front of him.

Mrs. Evans glanced up and winked at Virgil, pointing to his empty desk where his paper sat, and brought a finger to her lips. Her mouth was quirked in a secret smile and the twinkle in her eye made Virgil’s own mouth quirk as he crept to his seat, nodding to Roman who waved with vigor.

The stiffness and way he held himself so carefully didn’t go unnoticed by teacher nor friend. Neither did the dark shadows of sleepless nights and the unmistakable makeup covering a black eye.

. . . .

_Ding!_

The class looked up from their books at the sound of the intercom system paging the room. Mrs. Evans hurried to the response button, “This is classroom 105.”

_Can you send Virgil Thomas to the office please?_

Kids turned in their seats to stare curiously at the small boy and Virgil felt his anxiety spike as he hunched into his hoodie.

“Of course, he’ll be down in just a moment!”

_Thank you._

Mrs. Evans stepped away from the wall and turned to the class, “Roman, would you please walk Virgil to the office?”

“Sure!!”

Mrs. Evans had a policy about buddies that she inflicted with vigor. Not that Roman minded. It gave him an excuse to ask Virgil what was going on. He’d noticed the limp was worse than last night’s, and he wanted to check on his friend.

Right now, the poor 9-year-old looked terrified out of his mind. All eyes were on him, and Roman knew about Virgil's social anxiety, so the older boy grabbed his hand and pulled him quickly out of room.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Virgil took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “...I think so”

“Why are they calling you to the office?”

“I have no idea...”

"Is your leg okay? You're limping."

"Yeah, it's fine, twisted my ankle again."

Roman fell quiet, his thoughts a blur. _Did Dad tell Papa and someone was going to talk to Virgil? Or was this just a nurse check up? Maybe the teacher wanted Virgil to get medical attention? But then, the school wouldn’t have sent him to the office..._

Roman blinked out of his wondering just before reaching the doors, and took Virgil’s hands in his. “Good luck.” He told his friend as sincerely as he could.

Virgil gave his trademark smirk, “I think you mean bad luck.”

Roman face-palmed, sighing at his witty friend, “Can’t you let me encourage you for  _once_?”

“Nope!”, Virgil called cheerfully over his shoulder, pulling the door open, and letting it close behind him.

There was a lady standing by the front desk, and she turned when Virgil entered, giving him a very bright, very fake smile. “Virgil Thomas?”

Virgil made sure to keep his face carefully blank as he answered, “Yes mam’?”

“My name is Kate, and I’m from Social Services, why don’t we step in here and have a chat?” She moved to open a door to the right. A rectangular table and chairs sat in the middle, with a whiteboard near the front. _Conference room._  Virgil's mind helpfully supplied as he stared at the door she was holding open with trepidation. After a moment of hesitation, he reluctantly followed, taking a seat in the chair farthest from Kate, watching her every move with wary eyes.

She closed the door, shooting him another bright smile, “You should be able to go back to class soon, I’m just here to ask you some questions about home.”

Virgil stopped breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, I know. I've gotta stop posting such short chapters. :'(
> 
> Seriously though, I was on a Senior retreat all of last week and am surprised that I even posted a chapter today! Count your blessings Amiright? Anyway, thank you SO MUCH to all the comments I got last week, it's blowing my mind how many people have read and liked my stuff. 
> 
> You guys are the best!! Happy Monday!!


	6. Masquerade

Virgil’s mask slammed up, blocking his face from giving away his inner freak-out. He knew where this was going. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first interview he’d had to negotiate about his home life. After the colossal mess of the first one, Father had drilled the appropriate answers into his head until he could respond in his sleep. But if Father found out that the school was investigating again… _I’m so dead._

Virgil relaxed into the expression he knew so well. He'd practiced it in the mirror for hours at a time, until it was completely unbreakable. His eyes were unreadable, face a blank slate, his voice didn’t show the slightest tremor when he spoke, his breathing remained normal, and his hands stayed relaxed in his lap as he focused on Kate’s words.

“Who lives with you at home?”

“My Father and I.”

Kate wrote something on her clipboard, “What’s his name?”

“Deceit Thomas.”

She raised and eyebrow, “That’s his birth name?”

“Yes, mam’, That’s what his friends call him.”

“Huh.” She started writing again, “What are his friends like?”

Virgil didn't actually have a prepared answer for that one, so he sat for a moment, thinking over his next words, “Uh, well they are kinda loud, but they’re pretty nice.”

“What do they get loud about?”

“I’m not sure, I usually just stay upstairs when he has them over.” _Yeah, right._ He was _ordered_ to stay upstairs.

“Do they come over often?”

“Every weekend”

“What do they do?”

“Uh… play games?”

“What kind of games?”

Virgil shrugs, “I’m not downstairs when they’re over, so I don’t actually know.”

“Hmmm…” Kate continues writing on the stupid clipboard, “When you do something that your Father doesn’t like, what's your punishment?”

Virgil doesn’t even hesitate, he knows the correct answer like the back of his hand, “I have to sit on the stairs for 9 minutes and then apologize, or I have to do a chore.”

Kate gave him a skeptical look and gestured at his face, “How’d you get the black eye?”

“I don’t have a black eye.”

Kate blinked, then her face softened, “You don’t have to lie to me Virgil, I’m trying to help.”

“I’m not lying, I don’t need any help.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “Oh really, so If I took a makeup wipe across your right eye, it wouldn’t be covering anything?”

“No.”

Kate sighed, “Virgil, your teacher's been keeping a log of the times she’s noticed you coming into class injured.” She handed him a notebook and Virgil flipped through it with mild surprise. He didn't know that Mrs. Evans had paid that much attention to him, but secretly, he was kinda relieved that someone had written it all down. _This could help me later._

“Can you tell me why you get hurt so much?”

Virgil looked up, closing the notebook in his lap, “I play with kids in the neighborhood, we get rough sometimes.”

“Rough enough to give you a black eye?”

Virgil paused, carefully picking out his words  “I don’t have a black eye now, but it’s happened before.”

The look Kate gave him, was so dry and sarcastic, that Virgil had to take a deep breath to keep from snickering.

She didn't even bother writing that down, “Kid, our agency got calls today from 3 separate numbers, all of them about you. You don’t have to protect your father anymore, there are people on your side.”

That made Virgil hesitate, had Roman told his parents about last night? ...Maybe, but he’d promised. It could be a coincidence... Even so, could he actually get away from Father? _Probably not._ The man was always reminding him of the connections he had all over the city.

Running would just make it worse when he was dragged back.

The silence stretched on, and Kate let it. Virgil wasn’t giving anything away, and it kind of unnerved her. She’d done what felt like millions of cases, but this one was especially troubling. The amount of trauma it took to make talking to a 9-year-old, equivalent to having a conversation with a brick wall, wasn’t something she liked to think about. She just hoped she could get the kid on her side before things got worse.

Finally Virgil spoke, resolve set in his small shoulders, and no hint of hesitation in his voice. “I don’t have a side, everything is fine.”

Kate’s smile fell.

 

. . . .

 

Virgil didn’t come back until after morning recess, more than 45 minutes after Roman walked him to the office. One glance at the 9 year old’s face, and Roman’s shoulders slumped. Virgil was completely unreadable, a brick wall, cut off from the rest of the world. He knew that particular expression all too well from after his mom died. It was the one he wore on the really bad days.

Roman just hoped that this wasn’t one of the ones where he refused to speak.

“Hey, are you okay? What was that?”

Virgil turned slowly, the shadows under his eyes seeming darker against his pale skin, “Another one of those interviews by Social Services.”

Roman grinned and playfully nudged Virgil with his shoulder, “Did you tell them? Are they gonna help you out?”

Virgil gave him a dry look, “You think I’m gonna tell them the truth so that I can go home to Father and get myself killed? Hell no, I didn’t tell them shit.”

Roman blinked at the cuss words, and sudden darkness in his best friend’s voice, “Oh… I just thought… Nevermind.”

Virgil’s shoulders slumped and he looked down, “Sorry, that was a little harsh. I know they’re trying to help, but Father’s always talking about the people he has all over the city and there’s no way I could run and make it on my own.”

Roman perked up, “What if you ran to a friend’s house?”

“They’d be in danger. Father would call the Police and make it look like they kidnapped me. And then, as soon as it calmed down, he’d send his ‘friends’ to rough them up. I couldn’t do that to someone.”

“Well…” Roman was running out of ideas, “What if you went to the Police yourself?”

“A 9-year-old's word against my father’s? They wouldn’t believe me.”

“You’ve got proof! There are bruises on your face and you're limping too!! You could get a lawyer and make a case again him!”

“I don't have the money, and he’d deny it anyway. Even if they _did_ believe me, I still have no idea if he’d ever leave me alone. He’s got connections, and knowing him he'd probably send people after me every few days just to make a point.”

“Wow… you’ve really thought this over.” Roman was shocked.

Virgil hunched into his sweater with a defeated sigh, “Yeah…”

 

. . . .

 

Virgil was internally panicking. He didn’t think he’d let anything slip while talking to Kate, but he was worried about Social Services checking up on his house anyway. He _knew_ it was still a complete disaster, and there’d be hell to pay for the little stunt he pulled this morning.

The day flew by in an anxious blur, and before he knew it, the final bell was ringing. There was only a certain amount of time that he could waste packing his backpack and getting out of the classroom. He had to go home eventually.

“Virgil! Let’s walk together!!” Roman stood in front of Virgil’s desk, backpack on his back, bouncing enthusiastically.

Virgil responded without looking up, “Ro, we’ve walked together since 1st grade. You really need to stop being so cheerful about it.”

Roman gasped dramatically, hand flying to his mouth. “Well excuse _moi_  for being _friendly_ Mr. Dark and Stormy Night!! Would you rather I stop asking?!?”

Virgil smirked at his theatrical friend, “Yes.”

Roman facepalmed, “I left myself open for that one, didn’t I?”

Virgil simply swung his backpack onto his shoulders and walked out the door, laughing as Roman squalked and scrambled to follow.

“...hey Virge?”

Virgil looked at his friend in mild concern, “That’s a pretty sad voice you’ve got there Ro.”

“I was just thinking…”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

Roman shot his friend a deadpan look, “I’m trying to be serious here and you’re ruining it.”

“Try harder.”

Roman crossed his arms cutely, and Virgil found himself smiling at his exuberant friend, “You’re gonna get beat up at home aren’t you?”

Virgil looked down at his converse and gave a light shrug, schooling his features to hide a wince.

 _That’s enough of an answer_. “What if you come home with me?”

“Can’t.”

“But if you get beat up…”

“That’s more of a when, Ro.” Roman’s face fell, and Virgil hurried to reassure his friend, “Thank you for offering, but I’ll have to go home at some point. I’ll figure it out.”

_Yeah, that sounded better in my head._

Roman became even more agitated, “But if you came over to my place, you’d be safe!” 

Virgil kept his eyes trained on his shoes, “I'm sorry Roman, but it'd just be it worse when I got back. And besides, I can’t stay with your Dads forever.”

  
Roman let his eyes slip close.  _But they’d let you..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!! I'm back on schedule on both on time AND word count!! :)
> 
> ALSO, OMG, I'VE REACHED 1000 HITS AND 150 KUDOS!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHH!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO READ THIS!! You guys are the reason I'm still writing and I'm SO thankful for that!! 
> 
> Speaking of being thankful, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!! This week's gonna be a bit busy, but do not fear, I should have the next chapter up in time!! Get ready for things to heat up!! :)


	7. The Plot Thickens

Roman burst through the door with a crash, startling Patton who barely managed to not drop the pile of plates he was lifting out of the dishwasher.

“We need to adopt Virgil!!” Roman yelled, skidding into the kitchen at breakneck speed.

Patton set the plates down, trying to calm his racing heart. “I’m sorry, what?”

“We need to adopt Vigil!”

“Yeah, no I heard you the first time, I’m just…”

“What’s all this racket?” Logan interrupted, stepping into the kitchen, a textbook under his arm, and a very concerned expression.

Roman whipped around at an alarming speed. “Papa, can we adopt Virgil?”

Logan blinked, “Um. What?”

“The Social Service lady came and talked to Virgil today, but he lied to her and he’s probably gonna get beat up if his father finds out they interviewed him!”

Logan’s heart rate spiked, “Wait, he told you he lied to them?!?”

Roman nodded, “Uh huh.”

Patton squatted down, placing his hands on the 10-year-old’s shoulders, “What exactly did he say?”

“Well, the office called him during math and Mrs. Evans told me to walk him down. Virgil seemed a little nervous, but he made jokes and stuff like he usually does. He didn’t come back until after morning recess and he had that look...”

Logan stopped him with a hand, “What look?”

“The one he always had on the bad days right after his Mom died.”

Recognition flashed in Patton’s eyes, “The ones where he wouldn’t talk?”

Roman nodded.

Logan ran a hand through his hair, “I apologize for interrupting, please continue.”

“I asked him what happened, and he said that Social Services had interviewed him and that he hadn’t told them shi…” Roman glanced at Patton, who raised an eyebrow, “uh… anything. I wondered if he could just run away, but Virgil said that his father would just call the Police and get people in trouble.”

“That’s very wise of him.” Patton said, exchanging a look with his husband.

Roman nodded, “Anyway, I came up with tons of ideas to get him out, but he didn’t want to do any of them...”

Logan frowned, “Did you tell him to go the Police directly?”

“Yeah. But he was afraid that they wouldn’t believe him.”

Patton bit his lip, “Even though he had the bruises as evidence?”

“Yeah...”

“And you said that he thought he was going to get beat up tonight?”

Roman nodded and Logan’s mouth set in a firm line, “Shit.”

Patton squeaked and covered Roman’s ears, glaring at his husband.

Roman rolled his eyes, pulling Patton’s hands off his head, “Dad, I’m in 5th grade. I know what cuss words are.”

“That doesn’t mean Papa can just use them whenever he wants!” Patton turned to his husband, “You’re in trouble Mr.!”

Roman shook his head with a smile and went back to his story, “I wanted him to spend the night here, but he said that it’d just be worse when he went back. _But_ if we adopted him, then he wouldn’t have to go back, because he could stay here forever!!” 

The two adults exchanged a glance, before Patton turned back to his son, “Hey Ro, do you think you can get started on your homework by yourself? I want to talk to Logan alone for a moment.”

Roman’s eyes widened, “Are we going to adopt Virgil?”

Logan smiled fondly at his son, ruffling the reddish brown hair, “We’ll think about it.”

Roman pumped a fist in the air with a whoop, and dashed out of the kitchen, “Take all the time you need!!”

Patton turned to Logan, usually cheerful face set in lines of worry, “This is bad.”

Logan sighed, “I agree. If he lied to Social Services then they’ve got their hands tied... and I requested that they check into his house this morning."

Patton’s hand went to his mouth, “Oh no…”

Logan took off his glasses and pinched his nose, face scrunched in resentment, “We can’t help him if he won’t let us, and he won’t reach out until he’s sure that he’ll be safe from the fallout.”

“So what do we do?”

“We pray that Social Services finds enough substantial evidence to remove Virgil from that godforsaken house.”

 

. . . .

 

Virgil slid the spare key out from under the doormat, and pushed it into the lock. They had nothing worth protecting in the house. The lock was purely to keep the prying eyes of their neighbors out.

With all the yelling and parties, they need it.

But it also acted as an alarm system when Virgil came home. The lock and hinges were in desperate need of oil, so Virgil’s entrance was always loud and obvious. Exactly how Deceit liked it.

Except this time, the door swung open with only minimum resistance and noise.

Father was sitting on the couch, face shaven, the living room spotless, wearing pressed shirt and tie. Virgil looked around in extreme confusion. _Since when did Father clean?_

“Virgil!” He stood up, smiling wide and gesturing the boy into the family room. Virgil raised an eyebrow, walking forward cautiously. _Seriously, how drunk is he?_

“Hello Virgil!” The 9 year old jumped at a female voice coming from the other couch, “We talked earlier today. I was just having a chat with your father about your home life. Why don’t you take a seat?”

Virgil turned, seamlessly pulling his mask on, “Hello Mrs. Kate, hi Father.”

Father sat down and patted the seat next to him, “Come on son, let’s tell this nice lady how wonderful you’re doing here!”

That was a threat, Virgil knew it. But he kept his carefully blank expression on and hesitantly took a seat next to the man whose existence made his life was a living hell.

Tonight’s severity would be reflected on how he handled this interview. He wouldn’t get out of some roughing up, but whether or not he was able to go to school tomorrow was contingent on the woman sitting on the couch across the living room.

 

. . . .

 

Kate was honestly surprised with how well Deceit Thomas was doing with the interview. He and Virgil were on the same page, seamlessly talking and adding details like a well rehearsed act.

There was just one small problem: It was _too_ seamless.

Not to mention Virgil’s body language was stiff and though he didn’t flinch when his father moved, she could see his shoulders hunch just the slightest bit. The whole display rubbed her in the wrong way, but she had one more question in her arsenal. One that was  _sure_  to trip them up.

“So, how did Virgil get that black eye?”  

Deceit gave his malicious smile, “He came home after school with it. Said some neighborhood kid gave him trouble. Wouldn’t tell me who it was though.”

Kate made direct eye contact with a very scared looking Virgil. He shook his head imperceptibly, and she narrowed her eyes, turning back to Deceit. “That’s funny, he told me he didn’t have a black eye just this morning.”

Deceit froze, just for a second before smiling at her again. His eyes sent chills down her spine as they seemed to flash a sickening yellow, “Is that so?” He turned to the quickly paleing 9-year-old, “Virgil, why would you lie so blatantly to a Social Worker like that?”

Virgil swallowed visibly, and Kate was impressed with how neutral his expression stayed even with a fully grown man’s glare leveled at him.

“I was afraid that she wouldn’t believe me when I said that a neighborhood kid did it and I didn’t want you to get in trouble for a misunderstanding.” The boy’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the excuse had Kate raising her eyebrows in surprise. _Damn, this kid’s good._

Deceit blinked, and then laughed, clapping his hand on his son’s shoulder. Virgil flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

Kate sighed with defeat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she bent to return the clipboard to her bag. Deceit wasn't giving anything away, and without Virgil’s testimony, her hands were tied. “That’s all I have for today. Thank you for taking the time out of your day Mr. Thomas.” She stood, shaking hands with Deceit.

Virgil got up to let Mrs. Kate out the door, waving as she got into her car and backed out of the driveway. The door closed in front of him and Virgil’s heart began to pound.

Father stood above him, bottle in hand, and absolute rage on his face. “You think you can run away from me huh?” Deceit took a swig, swaying in place, “Had fun pulling a little trick on me last night?”

Virgil was quiet.

“WELL BOY!?! WAS IT FUN!?!”

Virgil shook his head so fast that his vision swam.

“You played up your face so that she school would come check up on me? Well, joke’s on you, I have a little game for _you_ tonight. You’ll love it.”

A cold shiver of fear went down Virgil’s spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the plot thickens!! *cackling at the title drop*
> 
> Man this was a mess of a chapter. I seriously don't think I've had this much suspense and action in one of these before so thank God for the break! 
> 
> I've been getting a lot of really awesome responses to this fic, that have really kept me going!! Inspired by thanksgiving, I'm gonna start giving shout-outs!! :)
> 
> First shout-out is to colorfullike! They've been commenting since the beginning and currently have the MOST comments on here so thank you colorfullike!!
> 
> Thanks to every single one of you for reading, leaving kudos, bookmarking, or commenting!! You're the best, and Happy Monday!! :)


	8. Gold and Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna come yell at me about this chapter or talk fandom, my Tumblr is shootingfromafar (real original I know) and I'd love to hear from you!! :)

Roman left his window unlocked and cracked open. In all honesty, he was hoping that Virgil wouldn’t need to use it, but he wanted to make sure that his friend had an entrance. _Just in case._

A tap on Roman’s bedroom door made the 10-year-old jump from where he’d been staring out onto the lawn. He leaped into bed, quickly rearranging his blankets before calling out, “Yeah?”

Patton peaked around the door frame, “Hey kiddo, you ready for bed?”

Roman smiled brightly at his dad, “Yup!”

Patton stepped into the room, “Awesome! Can I talk to you for a sec before I tuck you in, kiddo?”

Roman sighed, they had this conversation _every night_. “You don’t have to tuck me in anymore, Dad. I’m in 5th grade.”

Patton smiled, taking a seat on the edge of his son’s bed, and bouncing a smile out of the stubborn 10-year-old, “But I _love_ tucking you in! It’s my favorite part of the night!!"

Roman pretended to roll his eyes, “Okay, okay. I suppose just this once…”

Patton bowed from the waist, “Why thank you my Prince! I am greatly honored by your complacency!”

Roman grinned, his dad was the best. “You said you wanted to talk about something?”

Patton’s smile faded a bit, “Yeah, I wanted to ask you a favor…”

Roman sat forward with a concerned frown at the tone in Patton’s voice, “What is it?”

“Well, Papa and I have been talking, and we want you to come to us right away if Virgil shows up again. Can you do that?”

Roman relaxed, nodding easily, “Yeah, of course. I wanted to get you the first night, but Virge seemed so scared and I wanted him to be able to trust me. I’ll definitely get you guys next time though!”

Patton smiled again, tucking the covers down around his son, “Thank you Roman, you’re a good kid.”

Roman smiled, feeling the kiss on his forehead, “Thanks Dad.”

The door closed softly and Roman stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling above him. Most nights, counting them was enough to make Roman slip into the sleeping world, but after getting to 47 without the knot in his stomach loosening, he puffed out a breath and turned to the window, thoughts drifting to Virgil.

Roman really hoped Social Services would see past his friend’s lies, and if they didn’t, he prayed that Virgil wouldn’t show up as badly injured as he had the last time.

_Be safe my dark and stormy night._

 

. . . .

 

Virgil came to in a world of pain. He blinked, glancing around him in a panic, but Father was nowhere to be seen. The 9-year-old was on the mattress in his room, sitting criss-cross, without his jacket. He blinked.

Sometimes he ‘blanked out’ when Father was especially mad. Retreated into his mind where he didn’t feel or see a thing. Even through his eyes were open and he was awake, he simply just wasn’t present. An empty shell of himself that ran on instinct alone.

Virgil never remembered what happened when he went AWOL, unless he had a dream about it, but even then he wasn’t sure. Yet here he was, sitting on his mattress, at who knows what time in the morning, _quite_ confused, with his body protesting loudly at the motionless pose he'd been holding for a few hours at the least.

Virgil did a quick once over before taking a deep breath and stumbling to his feet. That small motion alone almost made him topple over. Virgil’s body felt like a walking bruise and _everything_ hurt. His muscles were cramped like he’d run a marathon and then taken a bath in subzero temperatures, his torso ached with every breath, making it hard to get enough oxygen, and his back was on _fire_.

_What the hell happened?_

He needed to assess the damage and dress the bad stuff, but before he could do damage control to his aching body, he had to check on Father.

Virgil’s room was up the stairs to the left, Father’s was to the right, and the bathroom in the middle. Virgil used the banister to sneak a peek into the the family room from above, still surprised with how nice everything looked. Father was passed out on the kitchen table. _Perfect._

Virgil knew from experience, that if the man was drunk, even the fire alarm wouldn’t wake Deceit, so if Father was down, he’d be out for quite some time.

The 9-year-old flipped the bathroom light on, locking the door out of habit, studying the face staring back at him with vague interest. The makeup from yesterday was gone and Virgil felt a stab of disappointment. _Roman worked so hard on that..._

Virgil’s bruises from yesterday contrasted against his pale skin in a watercolor of purple and red. The obvious tear tracks on his cheeks had dried, leaving itchy residue that he fought to keep from scratching, and his eyes were puffy and lined with red, but even through the irritation, he could see the shadows of too much stress, and too little sleep under his eyes.

Virgil sighed. _That’s gonna be hard to cover._

Tearing his attention away from his face, Virgil opened the bottom cabinet and pulled out a hand-held mirror. He’d found the thing on the side of the road on the way to school one day and had snuck it in his backpack to take home. It was cracked and scratched, probably from being thrown out of a moving car, but it did the job and in Virgil's current predicament, it came in handy.

Virgil’s back stung from where his shirt rubbed up against it, and that concerned him. The muscles felt stiff and knotted, and every breath he took, made it spike in pain. Then again, the breathing problem could be from the treatment to his ribs a few days ago, but seriously...

_What the heck did Father do this time?_

Virgil didn’t know if he could manage to take his own shirt off, much less twist around to look over his shoulder, so he turned away from the bathroom mirror, positioning his handheld one so that he could get a look his back.

Virgil’s eyes widened in alarm. The patches of crimson on his light grey t-shirt were impossible to mistake.

_I’m so screwed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the title?? Cuz the first part is gold and it ends in crimson *evil author cackling*
> 
> Yes I am aware that this chapter is about 400ish words less than my usual count :( BUT because of cliff-hanger's sake I REALLY wanna end it here; even though I also want you readers to have more than this!!! UGGGG ...decisions suck. 
> 
> (also Thursday was my birthday so this week has been kinda an insane mess)
> 
> But it's a 1 week wait!! We can do that!! Thomas can only make Sander Sides videos so quickly so I have faith that our fandom has plenty of patience!!
> 
> Anyway, this week's shoutout goes to Remy_Sanders for helping me beta!! Thanks for all the dyslexia mistakes caught and enduring the mess that is my entire writing style!! XD
> 
> I hope everyone has wonderfully amazing weeks and Happy Monday!! :)


	9. No Other Choice

Virgil was cold. To keep from getting his jacket stained, he’d put in on backward, but it was 2 o’clock in the morning and even Gainesville Florida got under 40 degrees in the winter. Cold enough to see his breath puff in front of his face as he trudged along.

Although the cool air was soothing on his back, it still smarted from when he’d tried to wince his shirt off himself. Unsurprisingly, he’d only succeeded in making it more irritated so with a lot of frustration, he’d snuck out, heading over to Roman’s for the second night in a row.

Virgil had no idea how he was going to convince his exuberant friend to keep _this_ quiet, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. He still only had an idea of what happened itching at the back of his mind, but if he was right, he couldn't fix this himself.

Standing in front of the usually welcoming house, Virgil’s heart dropped into his stomach. The tree near the side was the only way he knew how to get into Roman’s room, and if he couldn’t even take his own shirt off, there was no way he was going to be able to climb that.

Virgil had only one other choice: Knock on the front door.

_If I wake them up, then I’m done. Patton and Logan will know who did this and when I go back home, there’ll be hell to pay… but if I don’t, who knows how long it’ll be before I can get out? And I really need help this time._

Virgil's breathing picked up and his heartbeat roared in his ears. He could end this right here, right now. _But would it ever actually end? Would Father ever give up?_ The Sanders family could be in danger because of him… It wasn’t too late to go ‘home’ right now. He could call the school and play sick until the scabs formed and he’d be able to wear his hoodie again, but his feet wouldn’t move from their spot on the driveway. It was like something was pulling him toward the one place that really _felt_ like home. Something that felt a lot like longing.

Besides, he’d walked all this way.

Virgil felt himself take a step forward, then another, eyes locked on the wooden obstacle that was the only thing between him and safety. The distance seemed to pass in an instant, and before he could change his mind, Virgil lifted a hand, curling his fingers into a fist, and let his knuckles rap sharply against the door.

_Please be home_

 

. . . .

 

Logan woke to a repeated tapping sound. He frowned, squinting at the clock. Who would be at their door at _3:30 in the morning_ ?  
  
_Knock Knock Knock._  
  
Patton muttered in his sleep and Logan smiled at him, remembering the conversation they’d had in the kitchen:

_“We need to make sure Roman will come get us if Virgil shows up tonight.” Logan muttered under his breath, glancing at the direction his son had wandered off to._

_Patton shifted, “Yeah… I was thinking the same thing.”_

_Logan ran a hand through his hair, “It’d be better if you asked when you tucked him in.”_

_“Oh Lo, he’d listen to you just as well as me!” Patton was quick to reassure the taller man._

_Logan smiled, reaching forward to pull his husband into a hug, “Maybe so, but you connect with him more. It’d sound like an order if I did it.”_

_“Well okay, if you’re sure...”_

_“I’m positive.”_

Logan’s eyes widened in realization and he vaulted out of bed, grabbing blindly at his robe and glasses, and sprinting into the family room. _Virgil._

He didn’t even look through the window, before throwing the door open. Grimacing at the flinch it caused in the small figure outside, “Virgil!?!”

The 9-year old looked up and Logan stopped breathing. The bruises on Virgil’s face where plain as day, even in the patchy lighting. The one his cheek and eye were the most noticeable because of the dark purple, but he could see traces of a few forming on his forehead and jaw.

His voice came out breathy and quiet, “Are you okay?”

Virgil glanced up at the teacher, hands fidgeting inside his pockets, “Hey Logan. I- wait, what are you _wearing_?”

Logan looked down at himself and huffed out a laugh. Patton’s favorite Cat onesie was tied around his shoulders like a cape. “It’s Patton’s. Please come inside, it’s too cold to have a conversation on the front porch. Are you in much pain?”

“Uh, I guess..” Virgil stepped inside cautiously, the familiar home wasn’t as inviting in the middle of the night. Shadows cast by furniture and the plants outside the windows made weird patterns on the carpet that moved with the wind. He shivered, imagining Father rising up from the darkness to get revenge.

A light flipped on behind him and Virgil spun around, eyes wide. He’d tried to hide the crimson stains on the back of his shirt, but Logan was frozen in place, one hand still raised to the light switch, horrified at the implication of the red. He took a sharp breath, stepping forward cautiously, “Virgil, what _happened_?”

The 9-year-old flinched away from the hands reaching out to him, “Can you just fix it?”

Logan blinked away his shock, hiding his shaking fists in the pockets of Patton’s cat onesie, and took a deep breath to clear his head, “Of course, let me get my husband.”

_I’m going to kill Deceit._

 

. . . .

 

Patton’s head was still a little foggy from the sudden awakening, but he blinked it away as he gave his husband a comforting hug. The man was positively shaking in his arms.

“What's wrong Lo-Lo?”

It took a few seconds for Logan to respond, but Patton was anything if patient. His husband wasn’t great at emotions and had a hard time verbalizing the more severe ones he had on occasion. 

“Virgil. Living room. _Please help_.”

All remnants of tiredness flew out the window as Patton grabbed his glasses and skidded down the hall, taking a deep breath before stepping into the living room. Judging by Logan’s reaction, something bad had happened, and the last thing Virgil needed was an emotional Patton.

When he caught sight of the 9-year-old quivering next to the sofa, Patton’s heart sank. Though he may only be a middle-school nurse, he could tell that something was extremely wrong. Virgil looked worse than most of the bully victims he treated every few weeks. Nonetheless, Patton pulled a friendly smile onto his face, and greeted his son’s best friend with an excited wave. “Hey Virgil!”

Virgil gave him a small smile, “Sup.”

“Is it okay if I check you out?”

Virgil gave a shrug, hiding a wince when it pulled at the skin of his back, “I guess.”

Patton smiled brightly, “Alright, I’m gonna need you to take off that fabulous jacket so I can get a good look at you. Is that okay?”

Virgil hesitated, but nodded, slowly letting it slide off his shoulders and drop onto the soft next to him. He fiddled with his hands to avoid looking at Patton’s face.

The energetic man’s eyes widened. He knew that Virgil was small for his age and he’d seen firsthand how the 9-year-old tended to flip-flop between inhaling 2 to 3 servings, and eating just enough to be excused without suspicion, but the kiddo had his hoodie on practically 24/7, so Patton never got to see much before. Looking at the 9-year-old without the familiar object, brought tears to his eyes.

Virgil’s too small arms were littered with bruises, both new and faded. The shirt he was wearing seemed to swallow him whole, the shoulders threatening to fall off at any second and he was visibly shivering in the fairly warm room.

_How did we not notice this before?_

It took everything Patton had not to rush forward and cuddle the kiddo, but he knew couldn’t startle Virgil now. So he stayed calm and fell back on the questions he asked every student that walked into his office. “Where does it hurt the most?”

“Um... “ Virgil shifted uncomfortably before spitting out the words in an unintelligible mumble, “My-ribs-and-my-back.”

Patton blinked, “I’m sorry what was that?”

“His back, Patton. Check his back.” Logan’s voice shook and though Patton wasn’t aware his husband had re-entered living room, he recognized that tone. Logan was barely holding it together.

Virgil bit his lip as Patton moved closer and the dad smiled reassuringly at him, “It’s okay kiddo. I just need to take a peek. Can I touch you?”

Virgil blinked in apparent surprise at the question but he gave a hesitant nod.  

“You said your ribs hurt too?”

“Uh… yeah.” Virgil was suddenly nervous. He _knew_ how bad the damage looked. He’d seen it himself in the mirror at home. If he lifted his shirt now, there would be no take-backs. But Logan had already seen his back, and with Patton’s concerned puppy eyes were directed straight at him... there was already no turning back.

Virgil hesitantly lifted his shirt, briefly showing the damage to his torso, before turning around and letting Patton catch sight of the crimson streaks on his back.

Patton stopped breathing when he spotted the bruises littering Virgil’s stomach. He couldn’t even see the skin. Just a mottled blue, yellow, and purple watercolor of pain.

When the kid turned around, Patton couldn’t help but let out a choked cry.

“You can touch it.” Virgil’s words were almost lost in the heavy silence of the room, but Patton caught them and moved slowly, pealing back the left corner of the 5th grader’s shirt.

Virgil winced.

"Sorry kiddo." Patton muttered, staring at the part he'd revealed. Slowly, he turned to Logan who had his lips pressed in a tight line, hand clenched in a white-knuckle grip by his side.

“Go get Roman.” Patton’s voice was choked, but steady as he turned back to the wide-eyed kiddo in front of him, “I’m sorry, Virgil. I can’t fix this. We’re taking you to the ER.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!! I'm back with another angst chapter!! Let me just mention how much fun I had reading all the commenters wondering about what was going to happen in this one!!
> 
> I myself was at a big turning point and had to decide whether Virge was going to get help or hide what happened. I twas a hard decision, but since I've already planned the next like 4 chapters, and really didn't want him to go through that, I decided to let him get help. (cuz seriously, even Mr. No-Self-Preservation knows when something's too big for him)
> 
> For those of you who've been begging for angst containing other characters, here yah go!! The beginning of a LOT coming!! XD
> 
> This week's shoutout goes to ThornRose!! I really appreciated all the comments they left me (ON EVERY CHAPTER) and we had some super fun conversations!! 
> 
> Thank you all and have a Happy Monday!!


	10. Not Your Fault

Getting Virgil strapped in and away from the back of the seat was quite the endeavor, but after a bit of struggling, Logan had come up with a plan that satisfied both Virgil’s injuries and Logan’s strict policy on safety.

The 9-year-old was currently leaning forward over the belt in his lap, with Roman holding his hand to make sure that any sudden stops wouldn’t result in Virgil being thrown to the seat behind him. And though he appreciated his friend’s concern, Virgil silently wished Roman wouldn’t grip his hand so hard.

The little blue mini-van lacked the usual energy Virgil felt with the Sanders family, and the silence was kinda freaking him out. It was common knowledge that he didn't like hospitals and knowing that he was headed right toward one made his anxiety spike.

Luckily he knew how to deal with his anxiety. _Distraction._

“Are you okay?” Virgil whispered the words, not wanting to disturb the heavy silence that had fallen over the car.

Roman on the other hand, had no such reservations and spoke in his normally loud and adorable voice. _Wait, what??_

“Did you just ask if _I_ was okay?? Virgil, have you taken a look at yourself recently?? You look like you were run over by a bus!!”

“ _Roman!_ ” Patton called sharply from the front seat.

Virgil laughed, ignoring how it sent spikes of pain up and down his torso, “I _feel_ like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

There was a moment of silence before Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes at the stiffness that had fallen back over the car, “That was a joke guys.”

“Not a very funny one.” Roman quipped immediately.

Virgil turned his head slowly to glare at his best friend, “Oh I’m sorry Sir-sings-a-lot, can you come up with a better one?”

Roman grinned, “I like that nickname!! I’m gonna keep it! And for your information Jack _Smell_ ington, my creative abilities transcend limits known to all of mankind!”

“Oh yeah? Let’s hear a joke.”

“Ahem ahem, what’s the frog’s job at a hotel? ...a bellhop!!”

There was a moment while that sunk in, before Patton’s giggles exploded. Virgil facepalmed, “Roman, that was _terrible_.”

Roman jerked back, spluttering, and dramatically flapping his free arm around like a baby bird desperately trying to fly.

Virgil downright LOST IT. _Holy shit I can’t breathe!! What the hell Roman??_

Roman felt his face flush as Virgil dissolved into laughter. The crystal clear sound filled the car, making the heavy silence disappear like shadows at high noon. _Virgil’s laugh is beautiful._

Logan glanced over his shoulder at the bickering kids in the rear-view-mirror. His lips turned up unconsciously in a small, relieved smile, and his hands loosened from their death-lock on the wheel. “Virgil always knows how to push Roman’s buttons...”

Patton glanced at his visibly relaxed husband, and at the laughing figure of Roman in the backseat. A soft smile played on his lips as he turned back to watching the streets pass in a blur of darkness and color.

_Thank you kiddo._

 

. . . .

 

The anxiety hit as soon as Virgil stepped through the double doors of the emergency room. The smell of disinfectant and lemon floor polish hitting them with all the subtlety of a freight train. Virgil froze.

Watching his Mom wither away was worse than any of the pain Father had inflicted upon him. She was so kind and full of life before the accident. Though the doctors had done everything they could, once the infection set in, it was just a matter of time. She started getting skinny, losing her muscle mass, and by the time she was admitted under hospice, she could barely keep a 5 minute conversation going.  
“Virgil?” Patton’s voice startled him back into his own body. They were standing in front of the check in desk, with a nurse staring at him worriedly.  
  
“Huh? Sorry, I zoned out.”  
  
“We need your address and emergency contact information.” The nurse helpfully supplied.  
  
“Oh, yeah….” Virgil rattled off his home address and phone number, along with whatever else the nurse asked, before he knew it, he’d zoned off again.

. . . .

 

Virgil jumped at the sudden entrance of a man _wearing sunglasses indoors_ , an iced coffee in hand, and a neon-pink scrub shirt that said, ‘Could be Sleeping’.

“Sup girls!!” The guy called in an overly cheery voice, “I’m doctor Remy and I’m gonna be in charge of y’all today!!”

Virgil covered his mouth to keep from laughing, _This guy’s like an older version of Roman_.

“You’re Virgil right sweety?” Dr. Remy asked, peering over his sunglasses at the boy on the table.

Virgil could only nod, too shocked to trust his voice.

“Alrighty kid, what’s up?” Dr. Remy asked casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Uh… well... um…”

“His back and torso are hurt, sir.” Virgil shot Logan a grateful smile.

Remy laughed, “No need to be so formal hon, just call me Remy.” He turned back to Virgil, “I’m gonna have to get that shirt off you to take a look. Are you able to do that on your own?”

Virgil froze, glancing at the room’s other occupants, then slumped, shaking his head, “You’re gonna have to cut it off.”

Remy frowned, “You sure kid?”

Virgil scooted to the side, breathing through the effort of twisting just enough for Remy see the red streaks painting the back of his shirt. When he turned back around, Remy had his glasses off, “Oh honey…”

Virgil stiffened, glancing meaningfully at the three people in chairs against the wall, “Can you just fix it?”

Remy raised an eyebrow, searching the 9-year-old’s expression for a moment, before he shrugged. “Yeah, of course kid, lemme grab some scissors.”

 

. . . .

 

Roman wasn’t exactly sure _what_ was going on. He’d been woken by Papa who looked about 3 seconds away from screaming or bursting into tears, had gotten ready as fast as possible, and then they were driving Virgil to the hospital.

He’d seen some blood on his friend’s shirt and noticed that the makeup was gone, but in the uncertain lighting of the car, there wasn’t much else he’d been able to make out. But sitting here under the fluorescent lighting of the emergency room, Roman wondered exactly how much he’d missed.

Virgil’s arms were covered with bruises of all sizes, and the ones on his face that hadn’t been much more than red outlines the night before, were downright purple. Roman hadn’t gotten to see whatever it was on Virgil’s back, but he really didn’t want to think about what could be under his friend’s grey shirt.

The exuberant 10-year-old watched carefully as Dr. Remy cut away the last of the material, before turning to get a wet towel for the back. For just an instant, it fell away. Roman would have missed it if he’d blinked, because the moment Virgil noticed, his eyes flashed open and he scrambled to cover his front.

Multiple sounds of surprise and distress echoed in the small space.

Virgil glanced up at the faces staring in shock at his small frame, praying that they’d hadn’t seen anything, but the damage was already done. Every eye in the room was wet with sympathy and Virgil’s own slid closed as he turned away.

“Virgil… what _happened?_ ” Roman registered that he was speaking but he had no control over what he was saying, “Why didn’t you come over!?! I told you to stay at my house but you didn’t!! And now…” Roman’s voice cut off as he curled up in his seat, sobbing into his knees.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Roman jumped at his friend’s voice inches from his head and he glanced up at the familiar face, “And it’s not your fault, okay?”

“Virgil!! Get your little tush back up on this examination table right now or so help me!!” Remy called in a exasperated voice, causing the 9-year-old to smirk.

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming! Sorry Rem.” Virgil gave his best friend one more smile, before carefully stepping back to the table, back still hidden from the room.

Remy rolled his eyes, muttering something about, _"shorting my name like we've known each other for years"_  as he went back to working the shirt off the small 9-year old. “Little brat. Running off while I’m trying to tend to an injury.” The doctor peeled back the piece he’d been working on and froze.

“Virgil.” Remy’s voice was quiet, but the low volume was somehow more chilling and Virgil shrunk away. “ _Who or what_ gave you wounds like these?”

There was a moment of silence, before Virgil’s timid whisper filled it.

“My Father and uh... a belt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ACK!! I knooooowwww!!! Late, late, late!! Sawwwyyy guys, gals, and non-binary pals!!!
> 
> It's finals week and I SORTA spent last night cramming for my Trig final instead of getting this chapter out!! D: I know, I'm the worst, but like school KINDA comes first right now. :/  
> Also, no idea if I'm going to be able to get the next chapter out on time next week either... so for the moment just bear with me till the holidays pass and life calms down. :p
> 
> ANYWAY, THIS IS LONGER THAN I ORIGINALLY PLANNED SO AT LEAST THERE'S THAT!!! Also, for those of you wanting some Roman angst, here yah go!! OH!! AAAANNNNDDDDD REMY'S HERE NOW!!! (Isn't he the best?? Writing him in a professional atmosphere was a little tough, but I THINK I got his character down for the most-part)
> 
> This week's shoutout goes to DecietMe. They've been sending me comments for a while and I found that THEY'RE A FIC WRITER TOO!?!? Yeah, I get excited easily. 
> 
> Happy Tuesday!! :) If you have finals week as well, I send the best of luck to you and if anyone wants to come yell at me on tumblr my url ShootingFromAfar!! (real original, I know) :)


	11. NOT A CHAPTER: JUST AN UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOT A CHAPTER, JUST AN UPDATE!! SAWWY!! :/

Heyo, It's Kai. _Yes I'm still alive._ :)

I'm SO sorry for going completely AWOL over the Holidays... they were kind of insane. :/

However, school started up again a few days ago, and I've gotten the chance to _actually pick up my computer and write_ _now,_ so I'm working on chapter 11 and **IT WILL BE READY TO POST ON MONDAY!!**

Again, I'm _so_ sorry for the wait, (and dropping off the face of the planet during that time) **but I will be back on track by the 14th and _that is a promise!!_**

Thank you for being patient with me, and this message will be deleted when Chapter 11 is uploaded. 

Happy _not_ Monday!! :)

 


	12. Tears and Hot Cocoa

A heavy silence engulfed the room as those present processed Virgil’s words.

“I’m going to have to ask you leave.” Remy’s voice was harsh and cold, devoid of the silly nicknames and warm jokes that had been his norm a few seconds ago.

“Wait!” Virgil cried quickly grabbing Remy’s arm, and attempting to ignore the spike of pain that went down his back at the motion, “You’ve got it all wrong!! Those are  _ Roman’s _ parents! I walked to their house after Father stopped, and they drove me here. My old man’s sleeping off his hangover at home.”

Remy raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing the earnest faces before him and dragged a hand down his face, “Either way, I’m gonna have to report this to the authorities, and I’m gonna need another nurse to help me with  _ this _ …” He gestured to the mess of Virgil’s back, before raising an eyebrow at the boy, “Judging by how stubborn you’ve been about this whole thing, I  _ highly _ doubt you want these folks present for that.”

Virgil’s gaze fell to his lap and he shook his head.

“Also,” Remy continued, “You’re gonna let me take a look at that chest of yours.  _ Don’t give me that look! _ I noticed your little slip-up earlier and we’re getting an x-ray of those ribs pronto!” The doctor exclaimed, pulling his sunglasses out from the pocket of his scrub-shirt and setting them back onto his face.

“Um, Doctor Remy?” Patton spoke up in a quiet, but urgent voice, “Can I get some pictures of Virgil? I have a feeling we’re gonna need proof of his injuries.”

Remy peered over the rim of his shades, “That okay with you, kid?” 

Virgil blinked, “Uh, yeah. That’s fine Patton. Also, if you’re calling Social Services, can you try to get Mrs. Kate? She was the one who talked to me at school, and... I lied to her earlier when she came to my house. I want her to hear the truth.”

“Of course,” Logan nodded, “I’ll make the call.”

“Alright!! I’ll stay here if that’s okay?” Patton asked, glancing at Virgil who gave a thumbs up, “Logan, can you take Roman to get some hot cocoa? I have a feeling we’ll be here a while.”

“What, no! I wanna stay!!” Roman shot out of his seat, staring with wide eyes at Virgil who knew exactly what words his friend wasn’t using.  _ I can’t leave you again. _

Virgil smiled reassuringly at the taller boy, “I’ll be right here when you come back, I promise. And you seriously don’t wanna see this.”

“But…”

Logan put a hand on his son’s back, “Come along, Roman. You’re the only one who knows how Virgil likes his cocoa. I’ll need you to order the drinks.”

“I…’ Roman gave one last, desperate glance at his best friend, before his shoulders slumped. “Fine... Virgil, try not to give Remy a hard time.” The 10-year-old’s attempt at wit was weak, but Virgil’s face still lit up.

“Psh, me?  _ Never _ .”

Remy sighed loudly.

 

. . . .

 

“This is gonna hurt kid.” Remy warned, hovering above the 9-year-old’s back with an antiseptic wipe.   
  
Virgil puffed out a laugh, “It’s fine, Remy. It hurts already.” At the pained expressions of the doctor, extra nurse, and Patton, Virgil rolled his eyes. “Another joke guys.”

Remy pressed the cloth to Virgil’s back and the 9-year old hissed, “Not a very funny one…”

Patton lingered at the edge of Virgil’s view as Remy and his assistant worked to get his back cleaned and bandaged, letting the 9-year-old grip his hand as hard as necessary when they went over the worst sections. Virgil wasn’t happy that the older man was staring so intently at the damage he’d taken, but having his presence calmed Virgil’s frayed nerves. 

_ Besides, Patton already has multiple photos of me on his phone. It’d be stupid to kick him out after he’s seen that. _

“Alright kid, x-ray time.” Remy announced as he taped the last end of the gauze in place.

Virgil glanced up, “Oh, are you done?”

“Yup, you’re all set. Want Patton to come with?” Remy asked, stepping into few feet away to flip his shades back onto his face.

“Yes please.” Virgil answered without hesitation.

“Alrighty then, follow me.” Remy called in a sing-song voice, striding out the door. Virgil and Patton were led down a set of confusing twists and turns, before Remy opened a metal door, and ushered them inside. 

Virgil glanced around curiously. With the numbing salve and his newly wrapped back, Virgil was in significantly less pain, though his bruised chest still throbbed dully, he was used to that kind of pain.  

Besides, he’d never gotten an x-ray before. 

Radiation signs lined the Irish Mint walls, pointing to the big metal table sitting in the middle of the room. The contraption above it reminded Virgil of the 3-D printer he’d seen on a school trip to the local science fair. 

“Will it hurt?” Virgil asked, staring at the machine.

Remy smiled at him, eyes hidden behind his tinted shades, “Not at all. You just lie down and hold still, I press a button, it makes a loud whirring sound, then we’ll check the picture, and if your ribs aren’t cracked, you’ll be good to go.”

Virgil blinked at the torrent of information, “Okay…”

Remy got him situated and lead Patton behind a wall that Virgil hadn't noticed while entering the room. There was a viewing window, which he could see Patton putting an apron on behind, before Remy’s voice came on over a speaker, “Thumbs up if this thing’s working.” Virgil stuck his hand in the air, “Alright, take a breath and hold it until I tell you to let it out. Machine's coming on in 3, 2, 1…” 

Virgil took a deep breath as loud whirr filled the room, frowning at a sharp pain in his side at the motion, “Remy, my stomach… It hurts…” he murmured as his body went cold and the room around him faded to black.

 

. . . .

 

Roman let his head rest on the cold glass of the window as he watched the passing lights with vague interest, trying to calm the sea of emotions churning inside him. 

He wanted nothing more than to see his best friend again. Virgil’s eyes had been so sad and filled with pain in the hospital waiting room, and though Roman had tried to engage his friend in a conversation, Virgil hadn’t seemed to hear him. The detached look on his face had scared the living shit out of Roman, but that wasn’t the main issue. 

Right now, he felt like something was  _ horribly _ wrong.

“Pa?” 

“Yes, Roman?”

“Do you think he’ll be okay?”

Logan sent him a reassuring smile, “Virgil will be fine. Doctor Remy’s a bit unprofessional, but he seems to know what he’s doing, and Patton’s there for emotional support. They’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Roman bit his lip, still unsure, “But what if he’s not?”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, carefully choosing his next words,“Virgil may have taken quite the beating, but he’s one tough kid. Besides, judging by how much joking he was doing in the car earlier, I highly doubt there was anything majorly wrong.”

“But if there is?”

Logan smiled again, recognizing the over-thinking pattern of his son’s thoughts, “Then he’s in the right place. Now help me order our drinks. Does Virgil like whipped cream?”

 

. . . .

 

Roman practically sprinted through the doors of the hospital. Pa had been trying to convince him not to worry, but he wasn’t going to rest until he saw with his own eyes that Virgil was okay. The first thing he noticed when entering the emergency room however, was Dad, sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. 

Roman stopped, heart rate picking up.

“Patton? Is everything okay?” Logan called from somewhere behind him as his vision tunneled and his chest tightened. 

Patton glanced up, tears streaking down his normally happy face, only to fling himself at Logan, who set the tray of cups down to hug his husband, “Hey, what's wrong love?”

Patton choked, words out through his sobbing, “Virgil… the x-ray… Remy made him get is cuz he didn’t like the bruises on Virgil’s chest... but… right after the first one they got… Virgil muttered about his stomach hurting… and he just… passed out! They found something on the x-ray. But now they won't let me see him!! They took him away on a stretcher, and they wouldn’t let me go with him, and he… he was so pale and I don’t even know if he’s okay!!” Patton cried, sobbing harder and curling into his husband as his frame shook.

Logan’s eyes widened as he sunk into a chair next to him, Patton and all. “How long ago did they take him? Did they say what was wrong? Did you see the picture?” When he didn’t get a response, Logan pulled his husband away from his shirt, “Patton, what was wrong with Virgil?”

“...um” Patton glanced down at his lap, swiping at his eyes, “It... happened so fast and everyone was really panicked... but right before they pushed me out of the room... The nurse from earlier started shouting something about internal bleeding...”

Roman dropped his cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, I know, I know!! I said I was gonna post it Monday and I had it ready and everything but then THE WIFI WENT OUT AT MY HOUSE FOR SOME STUPID REASON SO I HAD TO WAIT TILL AFTER SCHOOL TO USE THE LIBIARY WIFI AND THEN MY COMPUTER DIED AND UGGGGGGG. I'm Sawyyyyy for posting late again. :/
> 
> TBH, I'm not very proud of the writing in this chapter. It's pretty bad, but I've been having the HARDEST TIME with this thing and at this point I just need to get it out and deal with it. 
> 
> Also like, every hospital x-ray room I've even been in has Irish Mint walls. Even the adult ones. And I've been in a LOT of hospitals. Is that just like a Kansas thing or?? 
> 
> ANYWAY!! I is back and ready to get at it again!! :)  
> (plz don't kill me for the cliffhanger, I know I'm terrible) :p
> 
> THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SENT ME COMMENTS LAST WEEK WHEN I POSTED THE UPDATE (I'm gonna get ur names listed on here as shoutout, just give me till school ends) AND I'M SAWY FOR DROPPING OFF THE FACE OF THE PLANET!!! YA'LL ARE THE BEST AND I APPRECIATE EVERY KUUDO AND COMMENT!!!


	13. Shattered Heart

Getting woken up at 5 a.m. by a call from the local children’s hospital was  _ not _ how Deceit wanted to start his day. 

His head throbbed, his throat felt like sandpaper, and he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

_ I’m too hungover for this. _

But it wasn’t anything a shower, some Tylenol, and a couple of swigs of booze couldn’t fix, so when he strolled into the hospital an hour and a half later, he looked like a presentable member of society.

_ Now where the fuck is that deadbeat kid? _ _  
_

Deceit wandered to the nearest nurses station, eyeing the obnoxiously peppy girl with contempt. 

“Hello!! Welcome to UF Health Shands Children’s Hospital!! My name’s Nurse Kathryn, are you looking for someone?” She asked, hands hovering above the keyboard, and giving Deceit a wide, open grin.

_ Ugh, her voice is just as annoying as I thought it’d be.  _

Deceit let his lips twist into a smirk, “Virgil Sanders. I got a call about an hour ago, and came over as fast as I could. Do you know which room he’s in?”

Nurse Kathryn gave him a once-over, noting his button down rolled up the elbows, styled hair, belted slacks, and relaxed posture with a small frown, before turning her attention to the screen in front of her. “Hmm... yes he’s on floor 2 in the PACU. He just got out of surgery, actually! They’ll let you in since it’s Post-Anesthesia, but you’ll need to go through security before-hand. I’d recommend the checkpoint near the Surgical Waiting Room.” She pulled out a color-coded map, pointing to the orange post-care rooms, the grey elevator, and the green waiting area.

Deceit flashed his best malicious smile, taking pleasure in the way her face darkened further, “Thank you Miss. Kat.”

He turned and continued his casual stroll toward the appropriate check-point, grin widening as her muttered words drifted to him, “It’s Nurse Kathryn, jackass.”

 

. . . . 

 

Roman was absolutely _ beside himself _ with worry. 

Papa had long since calmed down Dad, but they still had absolutely no news on Virgil, and with every tick of the clock on the Emergency Room wall, drove Roman closer to insanity. 

Virgil was _ in there _ somewhere, quite possibly fighting for his life, and all Roman could do was stare at the clock on the wall and pray. 

“Ro, Ro?”

Roman tore his eyes away from the red, ticking bar at the quiet, emotional voice of his Dad, raising one eyebrow in a silent question.

“How are you holding up, kiddo?”

Roman shrugged, turning his eyes back to the clock. _ One hour, and 28 minutes since we got back… _

He missed the silent exchange between his parents, but he glanced up when an arm pulled him into a hug, breathing in the familiar scent of his Dad, Patton. 

“What’s going on in your head right now, little Prince?”

Roman swallowed past the lump in his throat, pulling away so that his words could be heard. “He seemed so… normal in the car earlier. I mean he was making jokes, arguing with me, and everything! Even when Dr. Remy was fixing him up, he was still so… Virgil.”

Dad gave him a strained smile, “That’s our Thunder-Cloud.”

Roman nodded, biting his lip as the guilt struck again. “I didn’t… I didn’t even  _ know. _ Not until his shirt fell… and you pushed me out so fast that I didn’t even get to see him or tell him that it was  _ exactly _ as bad as it looked!! And when we got back, he was… he was… and I…” Roman bursts into tears.

He recognised Papa’s arms joining Dad’s to sandwich him in warmth, but he continued to speak through the tears, “How could he… _hide_ something _that big_? I saw the bruises, and they spent so long fixing his back that I don’t… I don’t even want to know what was wrong! How could he… _joke_ and _laugh_ and _smile_ like he didn’t even notice that he was hurt?! ...How could he act so… normal?”

Papa’s arms tightened around him, voice filled with emotion that Roman had never heard before. “I don’t know Roman. I think he might have… that might  _ be  _ his normal.”

Roman let out a broken sob. “I… I should have… I should have  _ told _ someone earlier. I _ saw  _ the bruises! I  _ watched _ him change! But I did  _ nothing _ and he might… he might  _ die _ , because I was too scared to talk.” 

Patton’s form began to shake, and Roman finally broke. Surrounded by the tight embrace of his parents, under the fluorescent lighting of the Emergency Room, Roman let the stress of the past few days hit him as his heart  _ shattered _ .

  
_ I’m sorry, Virgil. I’m  _ **_so_ ** _ sorry. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYO!! Guess who's back?  
> (It is I, the Kai-st of Kai's)
> 
> Yeah, I know it's been forever, life HAPPENED.
> 
> This chapter isn't as long as it could be, but honestly, I'm proud of myself for even getting this much out.
> 
> UF Health Shands Children’s Hospital actually exists and is in Gainesvill, Florida. (Thomas's town) I wanted to be as accurate as possible, and Google was kind enough to even provide a map, so if you wanna see what the color-coded map that Nurse Kathryn showed Deceit, here's a link!!
> 
> https://ufhealth.org/sites/default/files/media/maps/shands-cancer-hospital-floors-1-through-8.pdf
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the SUPER long wait. We'll see how things go after this!! And have a happy Wednesday!!


	14. To Tell The Truth

By the time Kate arrived, Roman was completely asleep on Patton’s lap. The dad held him tight, still rocking slightly as Logan stood to greet her.

“Kate Baldwin I presume?” He asked, holding out a hand to shake.

She flashed a strained smile, “Logan Sanders, was it?”

“Correct. Thank you for meeting us at this hour, Virgil specifically asked for you, and we wanted to make sure he’d be as comfortable as possible with what's probably about to happen.”

Kate’s smile softened into something more natural, “It’s no problem, is this your husband?”

Logan nodded, turning a fold smile to Patton, who wiggled a few of his fingers as a greeting.

"I'm Patton Sanders. It’s nice to meet you! I’d shake your hand but uh…” He glanced at the sleeping boy in his lap, and back at her with a helpless shrug.

Kate chuckled, “Don’t worry about it, looks like you’ve got your hands full!”

Logan smiled, “Would you like to sit? Virgil’s… well, we actually don’t know how he’s doing, but Patton was rushed out of the x-ray room when they found some sort of internal bleeding, about 2 hours ago…”

Kate bit her lip, serious again, “I’ll need to take an official statement from all of you, but since we have some time, would you mind if I recorded whatever we can fit into the time before Virgil gets out? It would help the report, and I might be able to get a restraining order on Deceit from your telling alone.

Patton’s eyes flitted to the child in his lap, suddenly filling with sadness. “Roman has much more of the story than we do, but if there’s anything at all that we can do to help, consider it done.”

Kate’s grin was quick, and real as she sat, pulling out her recorder, and pressing ‘Go’.

“Let’s start from the beginning. When did you first notice that something was wrong?”

 

. . . .

 

Roman was warm. There was something holding him tight, and safe, blocking out the light, and to Roman, the whole world. A soft rumbling resonated around him in a voice that he knew better than his own.

_Dad._

He wasn’t sure what was being discussed, but he could make out the voice of his Papa, and another, female one joining the mix every so often. _Maybe the TV?_

He wanted to stay where he was, warm, safe, and protected, but as he woke up, brain becoming less sluggish and body functions returning to him, he realised that he _really_ needed to stretch.

The arms moved with him, supporting him as he pulled himself into a sitting position and  carefully rubbed the rust out of his sore eyes. “Dad? Papa? Wha’s goin’ on?”

Dad’s voice was quiet, and cautious when he spoke, “Hey there little prince, How do you feel?”

Roman groaned as he opened his eyes, and fluorescent lighting stabbed into the sockets, “Have a headache.”

Dad chuckled, “Yeah, you had yourself a pretty big cry. Do you want Papa to reheat your cocoa?”

_Cry? What cry? And why were the lights so bright? They hurt._

Patton cooed, “We’re still in the emergency room, kiddo. Do you remember how we got here?”

Roman frowned, emergency room… Virgil ...WAIT VIRGIL!!!

Roman shot up, eyes flying open as he frantically searched for his friend, “Virgil!! Is he okay? Did the doctors say what was wrong? Where is he? Can we see him yet?! Please tell me he doesn’t have to go home! We have to adopt him so he can be happy!!”

A hand on his arm jolted Roman out of his tirade

“Roman. Take a deep breath. In seven, hold 4, out 8, just like we practiced.”

Roman suddenly realized how fast his heart was beating and how hard it was to breath, and followed Papa’s commands until his chest didn’t feel like it was about to explode.

“We still haven’t heard anything about Virgil, right now we’re recording our account of what happened.” Logan gestured at the woman sitting across from them.

Roman’s eyes narrowed. _Why does she look familiar? Wait…_ “You’re the lady that was in the office when Virgil got called down during math! Are you a Social Worker?”

Kate flashed a smile at the 10-year-old, “Hi, I’m Mrs. Kate! Are you Virgil’s friend?”

Roman nodded, refusing to meet her eyes. “He lied to you…”

There was a moment of silence. “I was hoping that you could tell me about that actually.”

Roman looked up.

“Because Virgil and his father lied, I wasn’t able to get him out of the house, and because of that, he got hurt. From what your dads have told me, you’re the only one who knows the full truth.”

  
Kate made direct eye contact with Roman, “I need _you_ to protect him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYO!! It's a Thursday, so not really my normal posting scheduled, but I got this chapter done and I'm satisfied with it, so I didn't think y'all would mind! ;p  
> (ugg, did I seriously just use y'all in a serious sentence? I've been in Alabama for too long)
> 
> I got SUPER stuck on this, and last week's chapter if I'm gonna be honest, so getting them out was HAAARRRDDDDD!! (>.<)
> 
> But I high-key wrote typed this up today in a free period, and I'm actually kinda liking it, so THE WRITER'S BLOCK HAS BEEN DEFEATED!! (^w^)
> 
> It's gonna be pretty fast paced from here on out, but we're nearing the end, so happiness is only like... 5ish?? chapters away?? XP
> 
> Happy Thrusday!! :)


	15. Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctors have to contact Deceit cuz legal stuff, Kate shows up, De shows up, cops show up, things go DOWN, and V’s still out of it.

Getting his knife through security was  _ child’s play _ . 

Deceit had scoffed at how quickly and painlessly he was able to sneak a five-inch ankle blade under the unsuspecting noses of the two men in uniform.

_ This place needs better personal, for fucks sake. _

Finding Virgil’s room, however, proved to be damn near impossible.

Deceit could’ve  _ sworn _ he’d passed that yellow sign at least three times now, he had no clue what time it was, and the hangover he’d managed to avoid until now, was back with with the passion of a hungry anaconda.  

_ Shouldn’t have trusted that little reception-bitch, and just taken a map for myself. _

The longer Deceit wandered, the more agitated he got. 

If the brat had been sent to the hospital, and apparently needed some form of  surgery, then the little “game” he’d cooked up for the kid, must’ve been ended up a bit worse than he originally planned. Sometimes, he had a hard time controlling himself. It just felt  _ so good _ to hurt another human, that he couldn’t stop. Especially with the deliciously pained noises the kid made.

But this time he might have taken it too far. The doctors were probably already suspicious. Not to mention,the little shit could’ve snitched on him. 

_ I need to finish the job, and get out of here S.T.A.T. _

 

. . . .

 

The Sanders and Kate startled when the doors to the emergency room crashed open, but all of them stood when a very flustered, and panicked Remy stumbled through.

The Doctor’s gaze raked over the room and he struggled to gain his breath, quickly spotting the little group huddled in the corner. His shoulders sagged in obvious relief, and he weaved around the mostly-empty chairs to meet them halfway. 

“Thank  _ God _ you’re still here!” He exclaimed when in hearing distance,  “Is this the Social Worker?”

Kate gave him raised eyebrow, sticking out a hand. “Kate Baldwin

Remy shook her hand distractedly mouth tightened into a line. “Dr. Remy. I’m gonna go ahead and skip the pleasantries, we’ve got a problem.”

“Is Virgil okay?” Roman interrupted.

Remy, ruffled the 10-year-old’s hair. “Little Virge’s gonna be fine. I’ll tell you the deets later, but right now we’ve got more pressing matters.”

“What could possibly be important than Virgil’s recovery?” Logan snapped before he could stop himself.

Remy’s eyes darkened and he lowered his voice. “Deceit checked into the hospital half an hour ago.”

 

. . . .

 

Deceit had  _ finally  _ gotten directions to the correct room, and it was nowhere near where Nurse Kathryn had sent him. 

_ Fucking bitch. Wasting my time. _

He marched down the halls with a scowl on his face, considering all the ways he’d love to make her scream, but the closer he got to the room in question, the more his anger at her faded. After all, he had an even more exhilarating task to carry out.

_ Killing the brat _ .

The idea alone, made him almost giddy. After this, he could go full-time. No more “Model Citizen Mr. Thomas” to play, no more being left out of the fun stuff his buddies got to do. With Virgil gone, Deceit would have the time and animosity to participate in all the violence he wanted to. Finally put his lust for power and fear, toward something other than a 9-year-old kid. 

He’d lose a few things, sure. Showing his face in public wasn’t something he’d be able to do so easily anymore, and without a kid, it’d be harder to do reconnaissance, which was truly a shame. The brat might be weak, but it noticed  _ everything _ . Deceit hated to think that’ he’d be losing a weapon of such potential before he got to test it out, but he was pretty certain that the kid wouldn’t last anyway. He had too much empathy, and that would cause them trouble down the line.

And besides, if the kid  _ had _ snitched, he needed to go. 

_ Get rid of the evidence before it bites you in the ass. _

There was a single security guard standing in front of room 206, and that alone almost made Deceit drop his act and laugh. They  _ seriously  _ thought that one measly, probably college-aged kid with a badge could stop him? 

_ Pathetic. _

It was all too easy to speed up his walking, and plant a desperate look on his face as he booked it past the rent-a-cop. The man barely spared him a glance... right until Deceit ran into him. 

The kid’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Deceit's shoulders, steadying them both with a fluid movement. His brows furrowed, as he opened his mouth to protest, but Deceit beat him to it.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed loudly, letting his face fall into the picture of distressed parent.

The guard’s irritation faded away, “Hey man, it’s alright. Where’re you headed?”

”M-my son just got out of surgery. They told me to come up this way, but I’ve been wondering around for quite a while, so I think I might be lost. Do you happen to have a map on you?”

The kid had the decency to look embarrassed, uh, well there’s one in the room.. But I’m not supposed to leave my post...”

_ Oh for fucks sake… This kid is so green it hurts. _

Deceit ‘s eyes filled with tears, “I-I don’t know how long I can keep doing this! My son’s sickness, our house mere days away from being evicted… My wife… She died of the same thing right after he was born! H-How do I know if my boy’s going to be okay? I can’t lose him too! He’s everything I have,  _ please sir _ !”

Deceit cataloged the guard ‘s panic in his wide-blown eyes, noted his flushed face, and recognized the tremor in his shoulders. As Deceit ducked his head to let out a fake sob, his grin widened.

_ You’re mine now. _

“I... ah… um... okay, you know what? Fine. Just… stay here, I’ll be right back.”

The guard left Deceit with another awkward on on the back, and stepped through the doorway, letting it fall closed behind him, but before it could latch, Deceit stopped it with a foot. 

The kid started to turn, but in that moment, Deceit _ moved _ . 

He flipped the light off with one hand, while the other closed around the blade he had concealed in his ankle, pulling it out in one smooth movement. His yellow eyes caught the light from the hallway, flashing in the dark, as he put a hand over the kid’s mouth, and wrapped an arm in a choke-hold, sliding behind the boy. 

The guard was in a headlock, knife pressed to his neck, before the door slammed shut. 

The kid gave a few kicks, arms scrambling for purchase to pull away the grip around his neck, but Deceit was unrelenting. “Sorry kid.” He murmured softly, “ You’ve got too much compassion.”

He held on tight as the struggling became more and more feeble, waiting until the boy had gone limp, to let him down. He scooted the body against the wall. _ Keeping my exits clear. _

The moonlight filtered through the slats through the blinds, a malicious grin spread across his face as he raised the knife.

_ The ticket to my promotion …and my first murder. _

 

_ Goodbye Virgil. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYO!! Tis I, the Kai-est of Kai's!! :)
> 
> WHOOOOO baby, this chapter was FUN TO WRITE!! (^w^)  
> I took a few creative liberties, and made Deceit kinda insane. So that's fun. Also like, that poor guard Amiright??
> 
> ANYWHO!! It only took me about 18,000 words to get here so... :D  
> I can already hear the enraged and protective comments. I hear them. And I LAUGH!! *evil author cackling*
> 
> Welp, hope y'all enjoy the pandemonium, cuz it can only get worse from here!! >.<  
> (but don't worry too much, I promise I'm not killing off any characters)  
> (also my innocent "only 5 chapters left" thing from last week is SO wrong now ;)


	16. Protect at All Costs

Kate flew through security with her badge held high, Remy right on her tail, gesturing for the guards to let Roman, Logan, and Patton through as they practically sprinted through the halls. 

Roman wasn't the most athletic of kids, and he'd actually been instructed to stay in the Emergency Waiting Room, but Virgil was _ in trouble _ , and a Prince couldn't just stand idly by while someone was wronged. 

_ Especially _ if it was a friend.

So he ran, watching the hallways pass by in a blur of movement, pouring every ounce of desperation, fear, and pure adrenaline into his legs in order to keep up with the adults. 

It was hard. He was going faster than he'd ever gone before, and the adults had to keep pausing to dodge the nurses, gurneys, and security personal, but if he kept just behind Dad, Roman knew that he’d have a chance to actually help his best friend. 

Remy's frantic, “ALMOST THERE!!” was the last push Roman needed, and as they neared the room in question, Roman darted around the adults in front of him, skidding to a stop beside Remy.

There was something  _ majorly _ wrong. Roman could  _ feel it. _

The hallway around him seemed to get smaller as a stab of fear went through his heart, further hindering his ability to breathe. The grownups must have felt it too, because they hesitated, frozen in fear of what lay behind that door.

Roman however, was fueled by desperation, and wasted no time ripping the door open. 

The lights in the room were off, and the curtain was drawn, but that didn't stop Roman from throwing the curtain aside, and flipping on the light.

At the sight in front in him, Roman's heart  _ stopped _ . 

Deceit stood above a deathly-pale Virgil, a wide, malicious grin on his face, as the knife in his hand gleamed in the fluorescent lighting of the hospital room. 

Heedless to the multiple cries of shock, and the security personal right on their tail, Deceit’s hand reached its peak and began it’s decent in a deadly ark toward the unconscious boy in the bed beneath him. 

In that instant, Roman  _ moved _ . 

He didn’t see the hands reaching out for him, but distantly he registered the voices behind him, frantically calling out for him to come back. But Roman’s eyes stayed locked on the blade as it traveled closer and closer to the defenseless boy in the bed. 

He’d seen Virgil come to school with an inexplicable amount of bruises since the 3rd grade. 

He’d watched the bags under Virgil’s eyes grow, his face thin out, and his shoulders take on a defeated hunch that no 9-year-old should ever have.

He'd sat idly by as the boy he thought he'd known so well, withdrew, putting on a mask of dry sarcasm and unbreakable apathy, locking his mental shield into place to keep from crumbling.

Roman had seen it all  _ firsthand _ and he'd done  _ nothing _ . He was guilty. So guilty of something he'd never be able to undo, but the man in front of him, was the true cause of all of it.

Virgil’s social anxiety, panic attacks, days without speaking, countless back eyes, bruises, and most importantly; the reason Virgil’s eyes turned dull, were all products of the pain this man had put the 9-year-old through.

Roman  _ hated _ him for it.

Virgil was the single most important thing in Roman’s life. His best friend, his confident, his  _ soulmate _ . 

So as the knife arched down toward the unconscious boy in the bed, only one thought went through Roman's mind.

_ Like hell this man is going to hurt my best friend again. _

He made it just in time to throw himself in front the deathly pale form of his friend, meeting Deceit's eyes with a defiant glare. 

The man's eyes widened for a second, the knife pausing in its downward momentum, before they narrowed again with malicious intent.

Time returned to normal, before screeching to a halt. 

Roman raised his arm to stop the blade, and Deceit smirked.

A flick of the man’s wrist, and the knife was in his other hand, this time aimed in a sideways ark at Roman's side. The 10-year-old's eyes widened, and he shifted his position to take it in his right bicep.

A sharp pain exploded in Roman’s shoulder, and two darts made contact with Deceit's back. 

  
As  1,200  volts arched through copper wire, and the knife sunk into Roman's bicep, two voices  _ screamed _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I could just leave yah with this and watch you suffer, but as fun as that may be, I feel like I should explain that last scene cuz it's kinda confusing. 
> 
> Yes it'll be built upon more later, but for now lemme just... 
> 
> The darts and volts was a Tazer. I've actually gotten the chance to have real Tazer Handling Training in a Police Explorers group that I'm a part of, so the click, the darts, and the copper wire are all about as accurate as it can get. If you watch a lot of cop shows or have had the chance to shoot one, you probably recognized the scene, but I felt like I owed y'all an explanation after last week's chapter so... ;p
> 
> Anywho, WHO'S BESIDE THEMSELF WITH MIXED EMOTIONS HERE, CUX I SURE AM!! °~°
> 
> Roman is BOSS!! ^w^
> 
> Oh, BTW: I'm gonna go AWOL again for about 2 weeks because finals are coming up, and as a Senior, I NEED TO STUDY A LOT IN ORDER TO GRADUATE WITH GRADES AT MY STANDARD!! :/
> 
> We get out 2 weeks earlier than the underclassman, so soon as that whole craziness is over, I should have more time to write, so I'll get back to my regular schedule in the near future!! XD
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me, and Happy Tuesday!! :)


End file.
